


The Lessons

by Aoidos



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Consensual Infidelity, Kidnapping, M/M, Mpreg, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 59,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1529108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoidos/pseuds/Aoidos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's parents sell him to the wealthy Saito family on his twelfth birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lessons

When Arthur is twelve, his parents tell him to change into his best suit before they call him into the living room to meet an "important guest." Takao Saito is a tall, elderly man with short white hair, and he leans heavily on a gold and ivory cane. Arthur distrusts him immediately, and he hates the way the old man scrutinises him, even cupping his chin at one point to turn his face left and right. "He is fertile?" he asks, like Arthur isn't standing right there and can hear him. Arthur's heartbeat thunders between his ears because he knows what this meeting is about, and he desperately hopes this isn't his future husband. He doesn't want to imagine the old man naked and writhing on top of him.

 

Arthur's father nods. "Yup, and his intelligence and physical scores are off the charts. Doctor said he never seen anything like it. I can show you the papers," he says from his spot, reclined against the fireplace mantel, watching the whole production in a detached way that makes Arthur's throat seize in anger.

 

Mother stands by the window, anxiously furling and unfurling her fingers in her long skirt. She seems less thrilled about the arrangement, but she's not saying anything, so in Arthur's book, she's as guilty as his father.

 

Takao finally looks away from Arthur and nods at his father. "I require the papers," he says, releasing Arthur's chin, and stepping back. 

 

Finally, Arthur can't stand the suspense and he blurts: "You'll be my husband?" and he really can't hide the contempt in his voice. He feels sick at the idea of giving himself to a man old enough to be his grandfather. 

 

" _Arthur_ ," his father chastises, tone cutting, but Arthur doesn't flinch. He simply stares at the old man, who for the first time looks back at him with something other than an analytical squint. 

 

Takao first smirks, then chuckles. "No, not for me, little one. For my son, Akio. You are his birthday present."

 

 _Oh_. Arthur's shoulders relax slightly at that news. Ever since his father first revealed that he will be sold to a wealthy alpha to help pay off the debt on the farm, he's been dreading this moment, but also feels weirdly excited when he imagines who his husband will be, and what kind of new life awaits him. It's sort of flattering to know all these powerful alphas have been bidding on him from afar because he's apparently special — something called an uber-omega, who not only can bear an alpha's children, but virtually guarantees a genetic bingo: primarily alpha offsprings, IQs through the roof, not to mention advanced physical prowess. 

 

Basically, Arthur can make super alphas, and in the cutthroat competitive world of high finance and multinational conglomerate business warfare, guaranteeing super alpha heirs to shareholders is quite the boon. Not only will the future of Mr. Saito's company, whatever it is, be secured for many generations, but he'll be able to promise the realm will be guarded by genetically superior creatures.

 

"How old is your son?" Arthur asks, brow quirked curiously.

 

Apparently, that is a bridge too far for his father, who surges forward and grabs him roughly by the elbow. "That's _enough_ outta you," he growls, giving Arthur a shake before smiling in a phoney, apologetic way at Takao. "I'm sorry about him, Mr. Saito. He'll mind his manners, I swear it."

 

Takao flashes a muted smile. "A spirited omega might be a proper choice for my Akio. He is…strong-willed. He will need someone like Arthur to keep him interested," he says, looking at Arthur like he expects him to say something in response, but seriously, what can he say to _that_? He doesn't even know this guy Akio and he's supposed to tame him, or something? "But I believe you were about to fetch Arthur's papers?" Takao adds, glancing back to his father.

 

***

 

He's later informed that they won't be officially married until he's sixteen, but apparently Akio and Takao approve of him as a future mate because his parents sign a bunch of papers, and then his dad walks on cloud nine for several weeks because he got a boatload of money for Arthur (he never finds out how much the Saitos paid for him). It's enough to save the farm, though, and set up his parents for life. Mother is less jovial, and she keeps trying to clear her conscience by saying stuff like, "They're such a good family, baby. The best family in Japan. Won't it be nice to see Japan?"

 

Like she didn't just approve the sale of her son.

 

His father says he needs to make videos for Akio in the meantime, sort of a way to inform his future mate from thousands of miles away. Arthur scowls as he stands against the plain white wall of his room as his father attempts to focus their very old video camera that must have been purchased in the 1980s. "What am I supposed to say?" he sighs helplessly, pulling at the collar of the shirt he only usually wears to church.

 

Glaring over the top of the camera, his father frowns deeply. "Just tell 'im about yourself. Interests and what not."

 

Arthur blinks slowly when the little red light comes on. "Um…hi. I'm Arthur Cunningham. Uh, I guess you know that already," he stammers, heart racing a bit when his father glares at him again. _Right. Interests._ "I like math and playing the piano, and…I hope I'll be a good mate for you," he says, nodding to let his father know he's done talking.

 

His father sighs as he lowers the camera. "That'll do, I guess."

 

***

 

He only sends videos, but Arthur never receives anything in return, so he has no idea what Akio looks like or what his interests are when he's loaded onto an international flight on his sixteenth birthday — his mother carrying on hugging and kissing him in the airport and his father very formally shaking his hand in farewell. For four long years, he's been wondering about Akio, imagining what he might look and be like, and now he's just thirteen hours away from meeting his future husband.

 

He can't sleep the whole time he's in the air from Louisville to Tokyo, nor can he focus on any of the movies or TV shows playing on the little screen embedded in the seat in front of him. Arthur ends up staring out of the window a lot, wondering and worrying as he looks at the sky and the water, both the exact same color so it simply looks like an endless plain of blue. As always, Arthur tries to focus on the future because the past hurts too much, all the angry, negative thoughts about his parents overwhelming him. Instead, he thinks of Akio, and he wonders what Japan will be like — if he'll have to go to church there too, or if he'll be living in a city instead of the country. There's an in-flight magazine that highlights some of the "nightlife attractions" in Tokyo, and Arthur sees he'll definitely be living in a city, a huge, sprawling city with lots of cars and very tall buildings. It scares him a little bit so he closes the magazine and puts in back in the slot affixed to the back of the seat.

 

He curls up in his seat, forehead nearly pressed to the cold glass of the window so he can't see the businessman seated beside him, or the flight attendants, or anyone else. All he sees is the ocean, stretching into the horizon, kissing the sky. 

 

He doesn't even know if there's going to be a wedding.

 

***

 

Turns out, there isn't an immediate union. Arthur doesn't even get to meet Akio right away. Instead, he wanders out of the gate, follows the English signs to baggage, and after collecting his things, he sees a chauffeur holding a sign with "Cunningham" written on it, so Arthur walks up to him and says, "I'm Arthur." The man nods and takes his bags, but they don't speak on their way out of the airport, nor do they converse once they're in the black town car (driver in the front, Arthur in the back).

 

Which is fine by Arthur because he's currently experiencing sensory overload as he stares out the tinted windows and takes in the cityscape. Tokyo is enormous and bustling, all bright lights and a sea of bodies — ultra-modern in a really intimidating way that makes Arthur feel like a backwards little country boy (which he supposes he is). He's suddenly self-conscious about everything, even what he's chosen to wear (the plaid dress shirt and navy blue slacks his mother chose for him), and he frowns deeply when he catches his reflection in the window. He should have gotten his hair cut before leaving, he decides, nervously swiping the unruly waves behind his ears. He looks eight-years-old. 

 

Maybe Akio won't like him. Maybe he'll reject him the second he lays eyes on Arthur.

 

And Arthur might not be enthusiastic about marrying a young man he doesn't know, but that trepidation is outweighed by the fear of his father, who will throttle him if he ruins this arrangement.

 

The apartment complex is an enormous tower of glass and steel, and Arthur can't help gaping at every corner like a total bumpkin as he dutifully follows the driver inside until he's handed off to a young woman sporting a severe hair bun and a pleasant expression. "Hello, Mr. Cunningham," she says in a thick accent and bows. Arthur hesitates for a split second and then bows as well, figuring it's safer to err on the side of caution. He doesn't want to be disrespectful. 

 

The woman, Kayo, explains that she is Takao's personal assistant, and she will be assisting Arthur in getting settled and setting up his schedule. "Schedule?" he asks curiously, casting a furtive glance over his shoulder to see where the driver's gone with his bags, but no one is standing in the lobby. He quickens his steps to keep up with Kayo, who moves remarkably rapidly for a woman wearing high heels. She's already standing in one of the elevators lining the lobby and he has to hurry inside because the doors are beginning to close. "When do I meet Akio?"

 

Kayo presses a plastic card to a scanner and they start to ascend. "Mr. Saito," she corrects, and when Arthur stares at her blanky, she flashes a small, tight smile. "Always formal in public. If Mr. Saito wishes you to call him something else in private, that is his prerogative."

 

Arthur's ears warm in response because, right, Akio will be his husband one day, and they _will_ be alone together. 

 

He tries not to think about what comes after that, mostly because it frightens him.

 

"Okay…so when do I get to meet Mr. Saito?" he amends.

 

Another polite, but opaque smile. "Soon, Mr. Cunningam. But first, your schedule," she says, the doors pinging and sliding open once they reach the top floor. The elevator opens into the penthouse itself, and Arthur stops in his tracks when they step out. The place is massive — bigger than any house or apartment Arthur has even seen. It's basically a mansion in the sky, though contemporary like the rest of the city, black marble and ivory with accents of gold, and enormous floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls that look out onto the city, which appears tiny in comparison. 

 

He's instantly afraid to touch anything.

 

Instead, he makes sure to stay close to Kayo as her heels _clickclickclick_ along the hallway floor towards the main sitting area, featuring two enormous white couches (seriously, who opts for a _white couch_? Akio clearly isn't a fan of pets), other various pieces of modern furniture, and what looks like very expensive accent pieces such as the twin vases placed upon end tables hugging each side of the largest couch. When she sits down at one end of the couch, he follows her cue and sits at the other end, keeping a respectable buffer between them. "Why do I need a schedule?" he asks curiously, squinting a bit when Kayo consults an iPad that she keeps cradled against her chest when she's not tapping away at it, or swiping through various spreadsheets.

 

Kayo turns a bit to face him, looking as calm and composed as Arthur feels flustered and over-saturated. "You will be required to take some lessons before meeting Mr. Saito," she explains, cradling the iPad on her lap as she swipes through some various documents and then presents the template to him. "This is yours to keep. It is your schedule."

 

He hesitates for a split second and then takes the iPad, staring down at the calendar on the screen. There is a lesson scheduled for every day of the week, ranging from etiquette to language lessons to business classes and even self-defense. Arthur blinks slowly. "Jiu-Jitsu?" he asks disbelievingly, staring at Kayo.

 

She smiles slowly, but this time the expression reaches her eyes. "Mr. Saito requires you learn self-defense in the unlikely event of an attempted kidnapping. You will soon be wed to the son of the most wealthy man in Japan. Certain parties might perceive you as an extortion opportunity."

 

Swallowing thickly, Arthur nods, gaze dropping back to the iPad. _Fair enough_. He keeps scrolling through the days. "I don't want to sound petulant, but why do I need to know all this stuff?"

 

Kayo's expression is softer when he looks at her next, maybe even a little fond. "Think of yourself as an extension of Mr. Saito. You'll need to learn all about his business, and be able to converse fluently in Japanese. You will attend functions and events with him. Sort of like a Proclus Global diplomat." When Arthur stares blankly at her, she adds: "Proclus Global, of course, being the company Mr. Saito will inherit."

 

"Oh, right. Of course," Arthur says quickly, ears burning in shame that he doesn't even know the name of the company his future husband will one day lead. He frowns down at the calendar. "It's going to take me a long time to learn Japanese," he says warily, more to himself than to her.

 

"I doubt that," Kayo interjects, her eyes gleaming playfully when Arthur looks up at her in surprise. "I have seen your test scores, Mr. Cunningham. You're very gifted. I'm sure you'll pick up all of this in no time."

 

It's undeniably a compliment, but Arthur isn't used to receiving those, so he doesn't really know how to process it. Instead, he pivots. "You said I get to meet Mr. Saito soon. Any idea when, exactly?" It feels strange to learn how to break someone's arm and speak Japanese for a person he hasn't even said a single word to.

 

Kayo stands suddenly, a clear indication that their conversation is drawing to a close. "For the time being, focus on your studies. Now…let me show you to your room."

 

***

 

His room is about half the size of his entire house back in Kentucky, and the scattered artefacts and first-edition books lining the walls are probably worth more than the simple ranch-style home he's accustomed to. There's a vase by his bed — Kayo calls it a Ming Dynasty vase — that's very pretty, but when Arthur tries to touch it, Kayo gently suggests he shouldn't because it's worth $1.3 million American. Arthur immediately (and fearfully) shrinks away from it and warily eyes how precariously the precious pottery is balanced beside his bed. He hopes he doesn't do something dumb like thrash around in his sleep and overturn it.

 

He makes a mental note to move it just to be safe.

 

Bookcases line the north and south walls, but the facade of the building that faces the east consists of huge panes of glass that look out onto Tokyo's bustling city. "It can be quite bright in the morning, so…" Kayo says as she walks to the huge four-post bed and picks up a small remote from the bedside table. When she hits a button, thick curtains close across the windows, leaving the room in relative darkness, save for the gently glowing chandelier centred in the middle of the ceiling. 

 

Arthur hugs one of the bed's tall posts and nods once. "Cool…" he says, and straightens up a little when Kayo looks pointedly looks back at him, unimpressed. "Uh, thanks," he says, nodding and flashing a weak smile.

 

Something like sympathy fills Kayo's gaze as she steps closer to him and hands over the iPad that still has the calendar up on its screen. "You will do well, Mr. Cunningham. Simply mind your studies and all will be well."

 

***

 

Monday is etiquette class. 

 

The iPad must somehow be connected to his alarm because at 7AM, it starts beeping and then the curtains open automatically, flooding the room with light. Arthur sits up sharply, hair in disarray, and squints in confusion at the windows before he remembers where he is (not in Kentucky) and what's going on (he belongs to Mr. Saito now, his life is really weird). Swinging his legs off the bed, he trudges over to the huge armoire and opens the doors, which is when he realizes his suitcase and clothing never arrived from the car. Instead, there are all new clothes lining the closet, and when he opens the bottom drawers, they're lined with socks, underwear, and pyjamas. Arthur stares down at his boxer shorts and smirks. Would have been great to know about this last night.

 

He reverently touches the suits, and though he's not a sartorial expert, Arthur can tell they're of the best quality. But he's unsure they'll fit him, until he pulls a jacket off the rack and slips his arms inside. It buttons snugly down his chest, the exact right cut. He turns to examine himself in the mirrored interior of the armoire's door, frowning in impressed surprise. Somehow, it seems as though Mr. Saito's team secured his exact measurements. He's not even sure how they managed to pull that off.

 

It's strange, wearing a suit. Arthur has to search Youtube on his iPad (the internet is unlocked, thankfully) for how to tie a tie, and even when he has found a simple tutorial, it takes him three tries until the windsor knot looks somewhat respectable. The sock garters take him even longer to figure out, and they look so odd and foreign hugging his calves that he spends a good five minutes staring at his reflection. When he's all put together — dress shirt, tie, jacket, pants, belt, socks, and dress shoes, he steps back and takes in the site of this new Arthur.

 

Somehow, he looks older and younger simultaneously — more professional, but lost between the opulent fibres. Maybe something to do with the lack of confidence in his eyes. Arthur thinks he always looks like he's silently asking a question, or pleading.

 

He closes the armoire.

 

When he walks out of the bedroom, a woman is standing by the long table located in the dining room. She's about Arthur's height and slender, with brown curls piled on her head, and other than those features, he also immediately recognizes that she's not Asian, and as soon as she opens her mouth, he tailors her overall description to include _French_.

 

"I'm Mallorie Cobb," she introduces, extending a hand comprised of delicate fingers and adoringly manicured nails. 

 

"Hey. Arthur," he answers, gently squeezing her hand because it feels wrong to shake it (she looks so delicate, after all) and kissing it feels a bit much. He ends up sitting down at the dining room table, folding his hands on the surface in what he hopes gives the impression of a proper upbringing and looks up at her. "So you're my etiquette coach?"

 

Like Kayo, Mallorie gazes at him as if he's just done something hopelessly charming, complete with a secret smile and amused glimmer in her eyes as she takes the seat kitty-corner to him and pulls out an iPad of her own. Arthur wonders if Akio's entire staff is equipped with them — an army of tech wizard business henchmen and women. "I am…" she says, swiping to a page that Arthur can read upside-down. It says _Arthur Cunningham_ at the top. "I promise, this won't be scary," she adds teasingly.

 

Arthur wishes he could emit confidence, but instead he shifts slightly on the chair with the high back that makes Mallorie look like a regal queen seated upon her throne, but probably dwarfs Arthur and makes him look like a silly little boy, suit be damned, playing dress up. "I just don't get what you're going to teach me," he confesses, trying out a shy smirk of his own. "Do you, like, help me figure out which fork to use with which course?"

 

He's surprised when the question makes Mallorie laugh. It's a nice sound — normal and light in the otherwise oppressive, overly-formal atmosphere. Briefly, he wonders if he'll be allowed to call her Mallorie, or if he'll have to call her Ms. Cobb, or Mrs. He's not sure which one. "Something like that…" she says, still smiling brightly,"But there's a bit more to it." She pauses for a moment, gazing past Arthur until an idea appears to solidify in her mind, and then she looks at him again. "Let's say you're at a party. An event, accompanying Mr. Saito. He steps away to chat with some people and a business associate approaches you and asks how Mr. Saito is feeling. What would you say?"

 

Arthur frowns thoughtfully. "Well, how is he feeling?"

 

Apparently, he's said something endearing again because Mallorie smiles. "He has a cold."

 

He pauses, mulling over the conundrum. Obviously, he knows in this hypothetical he shouldn't say Akio is sick, primarily because it's none of this associate's business, but also because he assumes Akio won't want him discussing personal details at a public function. "I'd say he's fine…" When Mallorie doesn't respond right away, he adds: "…or good?"

 

She chuckles, reaching across the table to gently pat the back of his hand. The physical contact is unexpected and Arthur tenses up a bit, surprised and a bit out of his depth. But before he can make the moment awkward, Mallorie withdraws her hand. "Don't fret. That's a good answer. But you will learn that much of what you will do for Mr. Saito is deflect these types of intrusive inquiries. Many in the business community will try to use you to glean information about Proclus. Something as seemingly innocuous as a question about Mr. Saito's health can actually be a sophisticated sort of chess move. Do you understand?"

 

Arthur nods slowly. "I think so. So what should I say?"

 

"Pivot," Mallorie answers succinctly, waving her hand through the air as if swatting away a fly. "You say, 'Who could feel anything but wonderful in the presence of such prestigious company?'" When Arthur stares back at her, she smiles. "In your own words, of course. Then you steer the conversation away from Mr. Saito. Ask about the associate's spouse or significant other."

 

"Should I write this down?" he asks, but Mallorie is already tapping away on her iPad.

 

"No need, we've set up an email account for you and I'll send you drafts of our class notes," she answers, followed by more tapping and then a couple swipes back to the main page with Arthur's upside-down name. "Now, we're going to cover the proper way to address dignitaries."

 

Arthur swallows thickly.

 

***

 

As it turns out, there's about a million things he doesn't know about etiquette, and the way he speaks, sits, and carries himself is all wrong. Of course, Mallorie explains this in a way that doesn't seem insulting, but afterwards when she's gone and Arthur is left alone with his pages and pages of notes, he realizes that he doesn't know the first thing about being Akio's mate. 

 

Mallorie suggested he practice talking in a mirror, so he does in front of the armoire, saying banal things like, "Omega Saito. Pleasure to meet you," and then squeezing a stress ball Mallorie gave him to rehearse his handshake — firm, but not too firm. Then he says it again in Japanese. _Hajimemashite._ That part he Googled on his own after Mallorie left. If he's this lost with the etiquette lesson, he figures he's going to be totally lost in language class, so he decides to get a head start. Arthur repeats the greeting until it feels natural flowing off his tongue. Then he squeezes the ball again.

 

It's noon by the time he's through practicing, but according to the digital calendar he has the rest of the day to himself. Except, there's nothing to do in the penthouse other than lounge about, read, surf the internet, and watch television on the living room's huge flat screen TV that emerges from a mahogany bureau when Arthur pushes a button on the remote. Then it slowly ascends from its hidden place in extremely dramatic fashion (he always imagines this happening with a fog machine and strobe lights accompanying it).

 

Endless personal time and a sweet pad should be every young man's fantasy, but Arthur grows bored quickly, to the point where he leaps up excitedly from the couch when someone rings the bell. When he throws open the door, Kayo is standing there dressed in a beautiful plum business suit that fits her perfectly. The word _couture_ pops into his head — something Mallorie dropped into their conversation and Arthur figured out using context. It means someone designed the suit just for Kayo so she looks sewn into it. "Hey!" Arthur greets sunnily, smiling brightly. 

 

"Hello, Mr. Cunningham," Kayo replies, smiling as her neat, clipped strides carry her into the penthouse. "I'm checking in to see how your etiquette class went, and to see if you need anything."

 

"It went really good — well. It went well," Arthur says, hurrying after her. Again, he's struck by the fact that he practically has to jog to keep up with a slight woman wearing high heels. "Um, Ms. Cobb says I'm a fast learner," he adds when they're standing in the living room. He quickly picks up the remote to mute the television.

 

" _Mrs_.," Kayo corrects gently as she sits down and whips out her trusty iPad. "And she told me you did very well," she adds, flashing another smile that puts Arthur at ease long enough to sit down and relax his shoulders. _Mrs._ That answers the question if Mallorie is married. He files that bit of information away beside the smug feeling that his etiquette teacher sang his praises. So he didn't manage to mess everything up his first day in training. That's a good thing. "And do you approve of your living situation here?" she asks, swiping to a blank document.

 

"It's really nice," Arthur answers because he was raised to be a polite young man, but anxiety must cause his voice to waver. Kayo types something out on her iPad and then looks up at him, waiting. Waiting for the _but_. "It's just…I'm a little bored," he adds sheepishly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward nervously. He knows it's not his place to complain, but the thought of sitting around, day after day, unable to leave the penthouse makes him depressed.

 

Fortunately, Kayo doesn't dismiss or belittle him. She simply nods and taps away on the tablet, making notes as she speaks. "That is understandable. I want you to know this will not always be your schedule. This is simply the training phase. Soon, you will meet Mr. Saito and everything will change after that."

 

Arthur stares at the top of her dark head, where a neatly coiffed bun sits, waiting for her to extrapolate. When it appears as though she doesn't plan on clarifying that statement, he prompts: "What do you mean everything will change?"

 

Finally, she looks up, her face the picture of patience. "You will be married to Mr. Saito, and then of course raise his children. You won't have time to be bored then," she says, smiling as her fingertips rapidly tap away on the screen.

 

 _Oh_. _Right_. Arthur's face warms and he looks down at his hands. The past few days have been so surreal that he oftentimes forgets about his real purpose in Tokyo — to marry Akio and bear his children, the so-called super alphas Takao was so excited about. "When will I meet Mr. Saito?"

 

"Soon," she answers reflexively, her eternal response. _Soon. Momentarily. Eventually._ All synonyms for evasion and vagueness. But Arthur now knows better than to pry because asking too many questions is rude and unseemly. Instead, he sits patiently, hands folded on his lap as he waits. "In the meantime, tomorrow is your language lesson with Mrs. Narita. She is a very experienced tutor. In fact, she has been a teacher for the entire Saito family."

 

Arthur blinks slowly. _All_ of them? Meaning, even Takao? "Wow…she must be…" he trails off, mind groping for a delicate word to mask his blunt meaning.

 

"Very elderly, yes," she intervenes, smirking in an ominous way that Arthur knows is a warning of some kind. "Mrs. Narita is very wise, but strict. Don't cross her."

 

***

 

The next morning, Arthur dresses in a fresh suit (blue instead of black) with a cranberry-coloured tie and emerges from the bedroom to find a little old lady waiting for him in the dining room, oddly enough seated in the exact same spot Mallorie Cobb planted herself. She looks extremely frail, hunched at the back, a mop of white curls covering her crown. Arthur is terrified she might drop dead right then and there until she speaks. Her voice is very strange — booming and commanding in a way that should be impossible considering its source is a decrepit frame.

 

"So…you're Mr. Cunningham," she says, peering at him from behind her spectacles. 

 

"Hajimemashite," he says, bowing his head deferentially.

 

Apparently, it's the right thing to do because she smirks, clearly impressed. "Very good. Please, seat." Arthur does, his ears burning a bit because Mrs. Narita watches him like a hawk the whole time as if staring at the very essence of his being. "You're very young," she adds, which completely throws off Arthur. He's really not sure how to respond to that, but luckily Mrs. Narita doesn't seem interested in an answer. "But I suppose Takao knows what he's doing." Although, her weary tone seems to suggest otherwise. "The mating rituals happen earlier and earlier these days. I was twenty-nine when I married my husband. How old are you?"

 

"Sixteen," Arthur mumbles, but he straightens his spine when the woman eyes him critically. He repeats himself, clearer this time.

 

"Hmph," Mrs. Narita answers, shaking her head a bit before she pulls out a thick notebook from a big leather bag resting at her feet. The book looks ancient, frayed at the edges, bookmarked with about a hundred neon post-its. Unlike the rest of Akio's team, it seems as though Mrs. Narita doesn't care for high-tech gadgets. "Young people pick up the language faster, so you'll have an advantage there," she says, peering at him over the top of her glasses as she opens the book to a specific page marked with a blue sticky note. "We start with basic greetings and chit chat and branch out from there. Understand?"

 

Arthur nods, fingers gripping his kneecaps fearfully.

 

Japanese is a difficult language, but Arthur has always enjoyed a challenge, and he possesses the ability to quickly learn skills. Mrs. Narita seems pleased by his quick progress, but as promised, she does not suffer fools. The second Arthur's mind wanders and he begins to think about Akio, wondering if the man will like him or find him an oddity, Mrs. Narita seems to sense his lack of focus. "Back to Earth," she says sharply, hand slapping the surface of the table, the loud noise causing Arthur to jump in his seat. "Understand?"

 

"Yes'm. I'm sorry," Arthur mumbles.

 

At the end of the lesson, she gives him a handwritten list of basic vocabulary. "Every day, practice," Mrs. Narita says as she begins to gather her things, shutting the notebook and sliding it back into her bag. "Repetition, commitment. This is how you learn. Understand?"

 

"Yes'm," Arthur says, quickly standing and offering his arm so she can grip it as she eases onto her feet. 

 

To his surprise, the elderly woman reaches up to gently pat his cheek. "You are a sweet boy. You will learn quickly, I can tell," she sighs as they slowly make their way from the dining room and down the hallway towards the front door. Mrs. Narita pauses there and peers up at him. "You tell me if Akio is fresh with you. I practically raised that man, and he's not too old for me to box his ears."

 

Arthur presses his lips together and tries not to laugh. "Yes'm."

 

***

 

He sees Akio for the first time ever when he's watching the news that night.

 

It's a story about Proclus Global, particularly how Takao Saito is extremely old, and the shareholders are getting nervous about his health. The story then shifts focus to the prospect of his son, Akio Saito, taking over the company and providing heirs to take the helm after him. That's when the news flashes a stock photo of Akio and Arthur practically dives for the remote so he can hit pause and freeze the image.

 

The first time he sees Akio, Arthur is wearing only his boxer shorts and socks (because his feet are always cold at night), and he slowly pads up to the giant screen and stares at the image of the man, the photo clearly taken as he was walking down a street. He's very handsome: dark features, light stubble, an intense gaze. Arthur stares at the image for a long time, trying to imagine the man looking at him and talking. He reviews what he knows: Akio is twenty-three, the heir of a massive fortune, will one day be the most powerful man in Japan, and is his future husband — the one day father of their children.

 

He eventually turns off the TV and goes to the bedroom where he lays sleeplessly for a long time, staring at the ceiling and thinking.

 

***

 

Arthur has a lot of time to think these days. He spends hours laying about, or staring out the large windows down at the bustling city below. During these moments, he thinks about and worries over all kinds of things, particularly his parents. He thinks about them all the time and wonders if they look the same, or if they think about him. In the days he's been at the penthouse, Arthur hasn't received any phone calls or mail from them, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. For all he knows, his mother (but probably not his father) has been desperately trying to get in touch with him, but Akio's people won't allow outside communications to penetrate the Saito family fortress. 

 

But more likely, his parents haven't tried to contact him because they don't consider him part of the family anymore. Now that he's been sold to Takao, he's the Saitos' problem now, the last tether to Kentucky severed when father signed his name to the bottom of a deed. 

 

Sometimes, it's easier to hate his parents than miss them with such aching longing that it leaves him breathless. He prefers to angrily smother the image of their faces when they suddenly, and unexpectedly, flare up in his mind's eye. They don't matter anymore, he tells himself. 

 

In that first week, he doesn't sleep well, but instead spends hours studying at the desk in the bedroom, and when he tires of studying, he watches television with the chattering news anchors and tries to work on his Japanese. Then there are times at night where he sits on the living room floor, legs crossed, and just stares out the window and watches as the Tokyo lights flicker on and off, but it's comforting in a weird way because someone else out there is always awake, just like him.

 

He's not alone.

 

***

 

His business coach, Dominic, is a blond American, which is the first big surprise. The second surprise comes when he smiles with perfect rows of white teeth, shakes Arthur's hand, and says, "I think you've already met my wife, Mallorie?"

 

 _Ah_. Arthur likes when things make sense, and in his opinion, Dominic being married to Mallorie is perfectly logical because they're both so chic and sophisticated. And it turns out, they're both very kind. Dominic is endlessly patient with him, laying out what exactly Arthur should know about Proclus, and why he should know it. "You don't need to know where every circuit is," Dominic jokes, smiling to indicate he's telling a little joke, "But you should know the basic structure of the company." He hands Arthur his template on which there is a chart that looks something like a family tree. "I'm a business consultant for the company, so I'm over here," Dominic says, tapping one of the white squares. "Akio will be the CEO, so he's up here," he says, pointing to the very top box.

 

Arthur nods, examining all the different branches. There must be fifty boxes. Proclus is a massive company. Of course, he already knew that, but seeing the structure of the company laid out in clear terms solidifies his understanding. "What are all these?" he says, gesturing to the smaller boxes at the bottom of the branches.

 

"Regional managers, and then top office managers, supervisors, right down the chain to the guys who swap circuits and work maintenance," Dominic explains as Arthur hands the template back to him. "I'd suggest learning the names of the top executives and workers in each box, and one or two tidbits about them — if they have kids, favorite hobbies, stuff like that."

 

Arthur nods, unsurprised to hear that more memorisation will be involved. It seems as though most of what is required of him is attention to details, which fortunately is his specialty. During his aptitude testing, the scientists at the National Omega Institute (NOI) discovered he has a photographic memory. "No problem," he says and Dominic smiles in response, pleased with his keen willingness. 

 

"Terrific. I think you'll find this stuff pretty easy to get a handle on. I've seen your marks, you know," he says, gathering his briefcase and the jacket to his suit, which is slung over the back of his chair.

 

Arthur's face warms, as it always does whenever someone pays him a compliment. He still doesn't know how to gracefully navigate the waters of flattery, so instead he shakes his head a little as he climbs to his feet. "Lucky first-timer," he dismisses, referring to the fact that some omegas take the test multiple times in order to advance their marks, but Arthur didn't need to because he obtained a perfect score the first time. He's been telling everyone it was beginners luck, except it really wasn't, but Arthur has found that many people are suspicious of individuals who excel naturally. 

 

"I don't believe that for a second," Dominic says, smiling and pressing his hand to Arthur's upper back in a comforting fashion that also serves as a rudder to guide him. "When someone pays you a compliment, say thank you and then move on," he advises.

 

Arthur clears his throat, flashing a timid smile. "Thank you, Mr. Cobb," he mumbles.

 

Dominic gazes down at him and smiles faintly. "You can call me Dom."

 

Arthur hesitates for a split second. "I was told — "

 

"I know. The Saitos love their formality, but…you can call me Dom," he says, squinting down the hallway and then looking back to Arthur. "Listen, I know all of this…must seem strange to you, but believe me when I say the Saitos have a reason for everything they do. I remember having terrible culture shock when I first moved to Tokyo, but you'll adjust sooner than you think."

 

For some reason, it comforts him enormously to hear that someone as put together and confident as Mr. Cobb — as Dom — struggled with a living adjustment. But just as he doesn't know how to accept a compliment, Arthur has never been gifted at expressing gratitude, so he simply smiles faintly and nods. "Thank you…Dom," he says, awkwardly affixing the familiar title. After his strict training, it feels wrong to speak so casually, especially to someone older and high-ranking. 

 

Arthur is still learning to read people, so assumes he must be wrong when he thinks he sees sadness reflected in Dom's eyes when he says: "No problem."

 

***

 

"How was he?" Mallorie asks when they're inside the town car, zipping away from Saito's tower. She's wrapped in a black trench coat, the twin stalks of her legs crossed, disappearing into a pair of six-inch Louboutins that she can still out-walk Dom in.

 

"He's a child," Dom growls, frustrated that he walked into this situation blind, and furious at Takao for allowing him to do so. He roughly sets down his briefcase on the floor of the car.

 

He shouldn't be so angry because this is how these things are done — both in America and in Japan — but still…Seeing the text _Arthur Cunningham_ written on a memo is a very different reality than sitting beside the kid, looking him in the eyes, knowing Arthur is freaked out and isolated in his glass cage. 

 

Mallorie is so calm beside him that she looks like a statue. Her red lips purse thoughtfully before she speaks: "He's brilliant."

 

Dom huffs loudly. Well, that's true, anyway. Arthur is undeniably gifted, sharp, and he'll be a valuable asset eventually. But not now. "He needs time," Dom mumbles sullenly, trying to ignore the cool, soft hand resting atop his own. 

 

Of course, he can't. 

 

Eventually, he turns his hand palm upwards and Mallorie laces their fingers together. When Dom look at her, she smiles kindly. 

 

"He has two years."

 

***

 

Just when Arthur thinks he's nailing his language lessons and might one day be a decent ambassador for Proclus, Mrs. Narita whips out a handkerchief, moistens the tip with her tongue and rubs it against Arthur's cheek, like he's five-years-old as she mutters, "You're filthy. Who raised you?" But at least she says it in Japanese, giving Arthur at least that much credit.

 

Arthur glares at her, a bold move considering he knows for a fact Mrs. Narita has no qualms smacking him upside the head if he disrespects her, but he's been doing very well during their lessons, and he knows she's secretly smitten with his brain. "Watashi wa kesa shawā o abi" he mumbles. _I showered this morning_.

 

Mrs. Narita glares at him. "I've met cleaner wolves."

 

Which is something she's always saying. She's met wolves, trolls, cavemen — all cleaner than Arthur. It's not that he's dirty, but sometimes he wakes up late in the morning and hurries into the huge kitchen with the short, silent chef who prepares his food and then seems to vanish into the ether after every meal. After inhaling breakfast, he'll have a minuscule drop of peanut butter on the corner of his mouth, for example, something no one in their right mind would ever notice, but Mrs. Narita sees it and obsesses over the faux pas at length.

 

Arthur scowls at the template screen where a smiling little man is giving him the thumbs up because he just successfully finished another Japanese lesson, one that was supposed to be really hard, but he breezed through in about ten minutes. Mrs. Narita loves her old notebook, but Arthur has electronic versions of their lessons on his template, and the woman has begrudgingly decided to allow him the right to use it.

 

She seems to sense she might have crossed a line, which is unfair because Arthur is doing especially well this morning (and this is remarkable, considering he excels every time). She sighs as if offering him a token of kinds causes her physical pain. "Well, what do you want to work on today?"

 

He looks up in surprise. She has never, ever once conceded control of her class to him. Arthur never has a choice in the agenda or curriculum, and he feels a bit dizzy in response to the sudden evaporation of rigid structure. "What do…I want to work on?" he parrots dumbly, snapping out of his daze when Mrs. Narita levels a borderline hostile glare at him. 

 

" _Yes_ ," she hisses. "Ask me a question and we'll work on it."

 

Arthur notes a glaringly large loophole in that command because she doesn't specify that his question must be language-related. He knows it's a daring move, but wagers the octogenarian doesn't possess the dexterity to leap across the table and kill him. "I want to know about Akio," he says quickly, leaning back slightly, out of the immediate range of her left hand.

 

Mrs. Narita's eyes are huge behind the coke-bottle lenses of her glasses when she stares at him in shock. Not only has he deliberately twisted the meaning of her words, but now he's asked a personal favor of his language tutor. It's a positively suicidal move — so daring that it seems to earn him a little respect because she smirks. "Clever boy," she chuckles. "Okay, I'll make you a deal. Anytime you perform like today, you may ask me one question about your betrothed."

 

Arthur is so stunned by her acquiescence that he can't speak for a few seconds, but he knows there is only a narrow window of opportunity to glean information about Akio, so he gropes desperately for a question. Before he can think too deeply, Arthur blurts out: "Tell me about his mother."

 

Later, he won't really be able to understand why he asked it. Maybe it had something to do with the dream he'd had the prior night — a horribly frustrating dream in which he was running through a field towards his mother, but he could never get close to her, and he could only see her back.

 

Mrs. Narita's smile is paper thin when she looks at him. "She died in childbirth. But she was lovely the brief time I knew her," she says, slowly closing her battered notebook as she glances to her wristwatch. "Her name was Masuyo."

 

Panic seizes his throat as though, if he allows this moment to pass, he'll never have an opportunity to ask about Akio again. He reaches across the table and boldly lays his hand atop Mrs. Narita's, the veins jutting up against her thin skin pressing into Arthur's palm. She freezes, staring at him in surprise. "When will I meet him?" Arthur asks desperately, because he's stopped asking Kayo since she never answers any questions about his future husband anyway.

 

Maybe it's because he looks so pathetic that Mrs. Narita ignores the clear breach in decorum. Instead, she pats his hand and gently removes it from her person. "All in good time," she sighs evasively, climbing to her feet.

 

Their time is up.

 

***

 

His jiujitsu instructor is very short, not Asian, an _American_ , and weirdest of all, _a lady_. This is pretty much the most earth-shattering news heaved at Arthur yet because growing up he became a connoisseur of martial arts films, his tudor the little television with the rabbit ears that permanently occupied the corner of his childhood living room. He watched them all: _Fist of Fury_ , _Way of the Dragon_ , _Once Upon a Time in China_ , you name it, and in none of those films was the central protagonist a slight, brunette white lady with a face like a Disney princess.

 

Ariadne can't be older than eighteen, and she's standing inside one of the rooms Arthur has never been inside before (it had been locked until this morning) — a large space with sliding doors that opens to a room with floors completely covered in mats. Her small frame covered in a black gi, black belt fixed around her waist, Ariadne's eyes glean in amusement when they shake hands and she insists he calls her that, Ariadne, not Mrs. or Ms. Whatever. "Don't call me master or sensei, or any of that other shit either," she instructs, lips quirked in amusement. "Just Ariadne."

 

Arthur shakes her hand, inhaling in what he hopes is a subtle manner, immediately detecting the beta scent residing beneath the layers of lotion and detergent. There doesn't appear to be a pattern in the classification of his tudors: Dom is an alpha, and Mrs. Narita is an omega, as is Kayo and Mrs. Cobb. Arthur has only smelled one other beta before — one of the doctors at NOI, and even back then he'd somehow known instinctively that he was smelling a beta. But he didn't know how.

 

Ariadne briefly lists her credentials, possibly because she immediately knows Arthur doesn't take her seriously. She's a four-time UAE absolute winner, and when Arthur asks what that means, Ariadne grins wolfishly and explains: "I beat the best in the world in all weight divisions," smirking when Arthur skeptically glances along the length of her form, all 100 lbs and five-feet-nothing of her. She nods to the centre of the room before ominously commenting: "I'll show you."

 

***

 

All his understanding of the body's capabilities and the laws of physics sail out the window when tiny Ariadne judo throws him over her hip and then proceeds to crush him in what he later learns is _side control_ and then _mount_ before she mercifully arm bars him and he's allowed to tap out and end his long nightmare. Worst of all, she's not even breathing hard when it's over, but Arthur's newly gifted gi is rumpled, the belt barely clinging to his waist as he pants for breath.

 

"How?" he gasps.

 

The corners of her eyes crinkle as she grins. "Let's start with the basics."

 

So they do. Ariadne breaks things down to the most painfully minute details, and Arthur at first assumes she must think him slow, but finally he begins to understand: jiujitsu is all about the details. And once he understands that, he falls in love with the art because it's a method of self-defense designed for small, slight, clever people, and he fits the mold. He's hip-escaping across the mat: left, right, left, right, shrimping back and forth, and Ariadne watches, nodding, pleased, when she glances at a clock mounted to the wall. "Okay, that's all for now."

 

Arthur props up on his elbows and frowns at her. "But you didn't show me any submissions."

 

Her cackling laughter doesn't assuage the feeling that he's been pegged a remedial student. "You're not ready. It's only your first class, man. If you want a full education, we have to start with a good foundation," she says, walking over to him and extending a hand to help him to his feet. Arthur brushes off his pants and nods slowly. He supposes that makes sense. Ariadne eyes him thoughtfully for a moment. "You met him yet?"

 

Lately, whenever anyone even alludes to Akio, Arthur's face warms. He shakes his head, then looks at Ariadne's face. "What's he like?"

 

She stares past him for a second, brow slightly furrowed. "I'm not sure. It's hard to explain."

 

He finds that slightly unnerving so he laughs to break the tension. "For you? But you described everything else so clearly," he chuckles, gesturing vaguely to the mat space around them. They've just spent the past hour breaking down far more complex concepts than a simple question like _what is Akio like_?

 

At least, that's what Arthur thinks.

 

Ariadne is only two years older than him, but her smile is filled with wisdom that Arthur doesn't understand yet. "It's not like the lessons. That's a bigger question."

 

***

 

Kayo runs her fingers through his hair, the cool metal of the scissors grazing his temple as she carefully snips away at the long strands framing his face. Arthur usually wears his hair long, but over the past few months it has gotten really out-of-control, and so Kayo volunteered to give him a trim even though Arthur offered to go to a salon. It was partly a cheeky suggestion, considering he knows he's never allowed to leave the penthouse.

 

"Is he afraid I'll run away?" he asks suddenly, and holds his breath for the split second Kayo's hand hesitates at the back of his neck where she had been trimming his hairline. Normally, he never asks personal questions about Akio because Kayo is masterful at pivoting from a serious conversation about her employer. She is a kind woman — someone Arthur would even consider a friend — but their relationship has glaring limitations. She is a woman who would die to protect and provide Arthur with anything, but Akio is her employer, and she's clearly operating under strict orders that include providing Arthur with as few details about his future husband as possible. 

 

"No, of course not," she answers softly, her free hand squeezing Arthur's shoulder gently. It's a comforting gesture, as if it saddens her to know that's what Arthur has been thinking this whole time. "He's concerned about your safety," she adds, resuming the haircut. 

 

Arthur quietly digests that information. Between his lessons, eating, and sleeping, Arthur reads and watches the news a lot, trying to learn as much as he can about Proclus. What's he's learned over the ninety days, or so, is that there is near-constant, tense negotiations happening at the company now that Takao appears to be nearing the end of his life. It's strange to remember him standing by the fireplace, leaning on his cane. For Arthur, it's a very intimate memory — the first day of a dramatic shift in his life — that is contrasted with a very different image of Takao recycled in the news of a cutthroat, merciless CEO who is feared by both his allies and enemies. 

 

Akio is always pictured at his side, a striking figure, taller and broader than his father.

 

The Saitos have many rivals, both legitimate and criminal, and the news occasionally makes references to a "failed kidnapping" that took place when Akio was still a young boy. Arthur was horrified to learn the details: Akio, age six, nearly snatched from a playground, but the child sunk his teeth into his would-be kidnapper's hand and ran away.

 

"Am I just going to live inside forever?" he asks, figuring he has nothing to lose by prying for more information.

 

Kayo must be done because she unties the smock from around his neck and shakes off the remaining hair clippings. The hand returns to gently squeeze his shoulder. "No, not forever," she says, and appears in front of him again, smiling slightly. "Things are tense right now. When Akio is made CEO, you'll be permitted much more freedom." Arthur tries to take the broom from her, but Kayo won't permit it, so he ends up sitting on the couch, watching as she sweeps up the hair clippings and tidies up the area. Afterwards, she stands in front of him, face relaxed, pleasantly open. "Please tell me if you ever need anything, Mr. Cunningham. My job is to make this time pleasant for you."

 

His lips quirk into a smile and he reaches up to touch the back of his neck where the hairs are much shorter now, curling slightly at the base. "Is Mr. Saito sad? About his dad?"

 

The question seems to throw Kayo off her game, as it always does whenever Arthur asks into the personal well-being of Akio. He's not sure why. Isn't he supposed to care about his future mate? She opens her mouth, then closes it, wheels spinning as she searches for an appropriate response. "Mr. Saito's primary concern is the stability of Proclus."

 

An ocean of unsaid truths rests between them, but Arthur is quickly learning and he knows not to bring attention to them. He smiles — not too big, lips shut. "Of course."

 

***

 

A dark, spiteful little corner of him takes great pleasure in the glare Mrs. Narita levels at him every time he manages to outdo his last performance. "You're too clever for your own good," she grumbles, yanking the template from his hands just to make sure he hasn't cheated (she does this every time). Arthur never cheats.

 

"You have to answer a question now," Arthur responds smugly, in perfect Japanese.

 

"I don't have to do _anything_ , you cheeky ingrate," she responds, in muttered English.

 

He frowns deeply. "You promised." Which seems to do the trick because Mrs. Narita sighs heavily and slumps, defeated, in her chair. She might be a hard, bitter woman, but a part of her feels very maternal towards Arthur, particularly when he showcases his more naive, trusting qualities. Yes, Mrs. Narita technically made him a promise, but she's also his elder and tudor, and she could easily revoke that right at anytime. Arthur simply trusts that she won't do that.

 

And that's precisely why she never denies him their arrangement.

 

"Fine…fine…" she grumbles, waving one hand through the air, the other heavily closing her notebook.

 

Arthur straightens his spine, chest swelling in victory. This time, he's better prepared to ask his question. "What's his favorite hobby?" he asks, hands folded in front of him on the shiny, lacquered oak of the table that perfectly reflects the gold light fixture hanging above them.

 

Mrs. Narita stares at him through the bulging lenses of her glances for a long moment before she erupts in laughter. " _Akio_?" she asks disbelievingly. "I don't think I've ever seen him do anything besides study and attend meetings with his father." Arthur frowns, shoulders slowly deflating as he leans back in his chair. This was not the answer he was hoping for, but just when he's about to mumble his thanks for Mrs. Narita at least upholding her end of the bargain, she extends a bony finger in the air. "Wait. I just remembered," she says, squinting thoughtfully as though spotting the spectre of a memory that she can't take her eyes off of for even a second or it will vanish entirely. "He attended the opera…once or twice."

 

Arthur's face brightens. "So he likes music?" He hasn't thought about music, or the piano, in so long, but his fingers twitch a little at the idea of tapping the ivory keys again. Growing up in a home with a piano had been a privilege, Arthur understands that now, and he misses the days when he would wake up early and noodle for hours, his mother occasionally leaving him a plate of food on top of the piano case — baby carrots or toast slices — something he could grab, eat quickly, and keep playing. "I play the piano — I mean, I played it. I used to play," he stutters, face warming as it always does whenever he discusses anything superfluous with Mrs. Narita. He's so accustomed to discussing only language with her that he half-expects her to snap at him and quickly navigate the conversation back to their lesson.

 

Instead, Mrs. Narita continues to stare at him, as if expecting a more articulate response. "What do you mean _used_ to?" she asks, but it sounds like an accusation, as thought Arthur has been falling behind on his piano-playing duties, and she's deeply disappointed in him.

 

Arthur blinks owlishly. "I…don't have a piano," he explains, gesturing to the side, motioning to all the empty space where there is most certainly not a piano.

 

Mrs. Narita shakes her head at him, like he's being very stupid as she reaches down to pick up her satchel, grunting loudly as she exerts the effort (Arthur has learned never to try and help her unless she asks, or she swats at him and hisses _I'm not a helpless old lady_ ). "You run your mouth all the time, but you don't know when to ask the right questions," she says, shoving the notebook into her bag before peering at him over the tops of her lenses. "Just ask for a piano and you'll get one, child."

 

The feet of her chair screech against the wooden floor planks as she eases to her feet, and Arthur numbly observes her slow ascension as he thinks about doing that — simply asking for a huge gift like _a piano_ , as he would request a glass of water or the morning newspaper. Is that how the opulently wealthy live? "Who do I ask?" he asks suddenly, leaping to his feet so he can follow Mrs. Narita down the hallway. "Can you request it for me?"

 

She throws an icy glare over her shoulder. " _Me_?" she barks. "Good Lord, no. Ask that glorified secretary of his."

 

"Kayo?"

 

"That's the one," she smirks. "That's what she does: makes lists, accommodates, all very civil. She'll get you the piano."

 

***

 

He's so nervous asking for the piano that Arthur very nearly doesn't get the words out at all. Never before has he had the nerve to ask for such a huge favor, or present, or whatever the case in this instance might be. It feels impossibly selfish to form the request, but once he manages to blurt it out, Kayo doesn't even hesitate. She simply nods, jots down the request in her template, and says, "Of course. I should have thought about that. My apologies."

 

She actually _apologises_ , like Arthur is a person who should simply expect for a piano to be waiting for him wherever he goes. 

 

The next morning, he wakes up to a bunch of noise in the living room and when he wanders out of the bedroom, hands clumsy at his waist as they fight to cinch the belt of his robe, he sees a group of men setting up a grand piano in the corner of the room. "What—" he gasps, eyes wide, as one of the men approaches him with an electronic signing pad and presents it to him. Neither of them speak, but Arthur signs the screen, he nods, and after quickly polishing down the case to rid if of fingerprints, the men leave.

 

Then it's just Arthur and the piano.

 

It's gorgeous and Arthur approaches the piano as though it's a wild stallion that might spook if he touches it too suddenly. When he's close enough to read the inscription, he sees it's a Steinway — it must be a least $60,000, and his hand trembles a little when he touches the keys, lighting pushing until the "C" rings out clearly. Emboldened, he sits on the padded bench and strikes a major chord, smiling brightly when the rich sound ricochets off the high ceiling and eagerly bounces back. The sound puts the tinny, slightly out-of-tune groan of his childhood piano to shame.

 

He plays for hours, and over the next few weeks, piano time supplements the time he would normally be watching the news, desperately searching for information about Proclus and Akio. Eventually, he requests some sheet music from Kayo, and he reviews the classics: Beethoven, Chopin, Bach, and also teaches himself some new pieces by sight-reading them (Billy Strayhorn and Willis Conover). Arthur isn't a musical genius. He's never going to play Carnegie Hall, and he has no illusions about that, but it's nice to nurture the emaciated creative part of his brain that has been neglected while he toils away in business and language lessons.

 

Everyone thinks Arthur is a little soulless computer, but it's not true. He loves beautiful things, but they're often kept just out of his reach.

 

But not anymore. Now, Arthur can ask for things and they are provided for him by an invisible man he hasn't met yet.

 

***

 

After six months, Arthur fully sheds his old life like an old layer of skin. Occasionally, he still dreams of his mother, but the dreams grow vague and hazy until they're barely about her at all anymore. When he does still dream of her, he never sees her face, and after a while he stops seeing her all together. Rather, he briefly registers her presence before she dissipates like a cloud of smoke, then returns to whatever else he's dreaming about at the time: jiujitsu with Ariadne or meeting Akio.

 

He's seen Akio's face so often on the news that he's able to dream vividly of him, as though they're already wed. Arthur has never been touched intimately by an alpha, so his dreams are always innocent, his brain supplying the idea and general gist of what it might be like for Akio to cup his face and kiss him. But when he wakes, he feels unfulfilled and frustrated because he knows that's not _really_ what it's going to be like. He can't know, for example, what the stubble lining Akio's jaw feels like, or the exact grip of his hands (are his fingertips smooth or calloused?) He can't know _how_ Akio will kiss him, partly because he doesn't know the man, but also because Arthur has never been kissed before.

 

He grows accustomed to the mystery of Akio, gradually accepting that there will always be more questions than answers, and somehow this becomes normal. Arthur even settles into the routine of his lessons sandwiched between personal time during which he plays the piano and learns about the politics of Japan. 

 

Everything seems to be solidifying nicely when one morning he wakes up in a nest of tangled, soaked sheets. His eyes flutter open, but the room immediately swims so Arthur is forced to shut his eyes again. He can't move and when he tries to open his mouth finds his jaw is locked shut. Panic seizes him, his first thought being that he must have contracted some terrible disease. He's feverous, possibly dying. Knowing he has to call for help, Arthur summons every last bit of strength to roll to the side and hit the panic button on the command pad by his bed. This simple task takes a solid two minutes, and afterwards he collapses to the mattress, utterly exhausted.

 

As he lays there, it suddenly occurs to Arthur that the last thing he wants is for an emergency response team to rush into his private quarters when he's in this condition. Now that he has time to evaluate his state, he realizes the source of his wetness — it's leaking from between his legs. Curling up on his side, Arthur whimpers pitifully when something tenses deep inside his pelvis and another wave rushes out of him, wetting the back of his pyjama bottoms. Though he doesn't fully understand what's happening, he's immediately filled with shame, but he can't move to clean himself or hide the mess, and when he hears the door of the bedroom fly open, he knows it's too late.

 

All his senses are heightened — the fibres of his pyjamas, even though they are silk, grating against his skin like sandpaper, the detergent of the sheets a billowing cloud haloed around his head, and Kayo, her perfume and omega scent, heralding her presence before she speaks. "I'm here…I'm here…" she says kindly, her hands cool as she touches his face and makes a soft sound of sympathy. "Everything will be all right."

 

Arthur's last coherent thought is that he's profoundly grateful Kayo is the one to see him in this state because he knows she is a woman who can do anything, but she will never judge him.

 

***

 

His first heat is awful because it's intense and terrifying, and like all new things, he doesn't understand its perimeters. For Arthur, it feels as though it will go on forever, even though he's occasionally aware of Kayo's voice telling him this is not the case. Worse, even though his friend is doing an excellent job of caring for him, he aches for something — someone — to vanquish the terrible ache inside his body. Though he doesn't fully understand what he needs, Arthur occasionally wakes and whispers a name over and over: _Akio_. 

 

He must be going insane, asking for a man he's never met.

 

For once, Kayo doesn't correct him for using her employer's first name. Instead, she gently strokes the hairs back from his forehead, uncaring that the strands are soaked with sweat. "Soon," she promises, but the words infuriate Arthur for some reason. He's irrational, on the verge of tears from frustration, and he curls into a tight ball, buries his face in a pillow, and tries to sleep.

 

After it's over and the maids strip his bed and replace them with clean sheets and Arthur is dressed in fresh clothing, Kayo presents him with a little amber prescription bottle. "Suppressants," she explains, jiggling the bottle so that the little pills rattle inside. "To prevent the next heat and so other alphas won't detect your pheromones as easily."

 

Arthur accepts the bottle, though he frowns at it the whole time. His parents went to the trouble of explaining the concept of an arranged marriage to Arthur, but they never mentioned the details of _heat cycles_ and _suppressants._ "What happens if they detect my pheromones?"

 

Kayo doesn't bat an eyelash when she answers. "They'll attack you and try to mount you." When Arthur blushes furiously, the corner of her mouth upturns slightly. "Now you see why Mr. Saito wants you to stay inside."

 

***

 

Apparently a byproduct of experiencing his first heat is that Arthur is now hyper-aware of the various categories of individuals surrounding him. For example, he's virtually mute during his next lessons with Dom because he feels extremely uneasy being unaccompanied around an alpha who is not his mate, even though he isn't technically mated to anyone yet. Arthur couldn't articulate why if anyone asked him, but he already feels like he belongs to Akio.

 

"What's wrong?" Dom asks eventually because of course he's noticed Arthur has only said a handful of words in the past hour.

 

And Arthur knows he shouldn't lie because the Cobbs have been very good to him — kind, patient, and even loving — so he forces himself to look at Dom when he answers: "I got my first heat."

 

"Oh," he replies, face reddening as he bows his chin, and the response surprises Arthur a little because he had only considered his own embarrassment on the subject. Never for a moment did he consider the issue might fluster Dom as well. "Uh, of course. Right. Well, that makes sense, given your age," he stutters, flashing what is probably supposed to be a supportive half-smile. The alpha then resumes, or pretends to resume, reading through his lesson plan for the day, but Arthur can tell by the furtive glances he keeps casting his way that Dom isn't really thinking about _returns on investment_ or _reverse fulfilment_ , or whatever business buzzwords they're reviewing this week. Finally, he looks up from the template, gaze apprehensive, yet ernest, as he adds: "I'll send Mallorie around to speak with you…about it."

 

***

 

As usual, Mallorie Cobb is a more graceful, affable version of her husband, and she instantly puts Arthur as ease to discuss what could otherwise have been a painfully awkward subject. She explains heat cycles to him — they happen every few months, last a few days, and nods approvingly when Arthur shows her the bottle Kayo gave him. "And you're taking the suppressants?" she asks, humming approvingly when Arthur answers in the affirmative. "Good. You'll take those until Mr. Saito begins courting you."

 

Nodding, Arthur cradles the bottle in his lap, thumb running over the edge of the white cap as he mulls over all the information. He tentatively looks up to Mrs. Cobb, who is watching him curiously. "Why do I feel…different around alphas now?"

 

"Ah," Mrs. Cobb responds, her red lips quirking into a knowing smile. "Your body knows you're ready to conceive now, so you feel alphas are a threat unless they're your mate."

 

His fingers tighten around the bottle. "Conceive," he repeats quietly.

 

"Yes, dear. Babies," she adds superfluously, eyes gleaming excitedly like they're just a couple of gabbing omegas chatting about very interesting gossip, but Arthur doesn't feel giddy. He can't imagine meeting Akio, a man who exists in his brain beside abstract concepts like gravity, God, and other enormous unknowable forces, let alone conceive of a time when they'll be married and the parents of children.

 

It just seems like that is never, ever going to happen.

 

Instead of happy, Arthur feels frightened and depressed, and he wants to be alone, so he excuses himself and tries not to look Mrs. Cobb in the face when he stands up and silently retreats to his room.

 

Thankfully, she doesn't try to pursue him.

 

***

 

Sundays are Arthur's only day to himself — when no one visits the penthouse except the chef, who prepares Arthur's meals and then places them on the dining room table before he leaves without uttering a single word. Sometimes, Arthur tries to engage with the man, say hello and what not, but the man never frowns or smiles or engages with him. In the early days, it drove Arthur nuts, sometimes motivating him to perform weird social experiments, like the time he deliberately stood in front of the man as he was trying to walk out of the kitchen. The chef simply side-stepped Arthur and kept right on walking.

 

These days, they have a silent truce. Arthur doesn't draw attention to the weird arrangement and the chef simply performs his work in peace. 

 

But unlike the other Sundays, this time there is a gorgeous bouquet of white orchids sitting in a vase on the table when Arthur walks into the dining room for his breakfast. Forgetting their arrangement, he asks, "Who sent these?" when the chef emerges from the kitchen, carrying a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage links, and crisp bacon. Naturally, the man says nothing, but instead sets the plate on the table and disappears into the kitchen again. Arthur leans forward, breathing in the sweet scent of the flowers, which is when he spots the small card taped to the front of the glass vase.

 

His thumb slips beneath the flap and opens the card. Neat, tight cursive loops across the paper, and Arthur's chest tightens when he realizes he's reading Akio's handwriting. He quickly removes the card to examine it closer.

 

_Arthur—_

 

_Hope the accommodations suit you. I thought these might brighten the room._

 

_Please let the staff know if you need anything._

 

_—Akio_

 

He reads the card eight times, then turns it over to see if there's more on the back. But the back is blank. Arthur sits down heavily, plate of food forgotten, as he obsessively dissects every single word in the brief message. All this time, he's been waiting with bated breath to hear from his betrothed and _this_ is the first communication Akio sends? Something that sounds like a business memo?

 

Arthur angrily shoves the card into his robe pocket, where it stays until he's at his language lesson the following week and he throws it down onto the table. The card skids to a halt in front of Mrs. Narita, who stares blankly at it before warily reaching forward to pick it up. She only reads for a few seconds. "Oh dear," she sighs, shaking her head sadly. "Akio has never been very good at this kind of thing."

 

Good. So it's not just his imagination. "I know we're strangers, but I hoped for more," Arthur admits, still speaking Japanese because Mrs. Narita prefers it. 

 

"That's understandable. Are you finished?" she asks, squinting down at the template resting before him, even though it's obvious he is because a cartoon monkey is dancing across the screen, indicating Arthur has yet again successfully finished an advanced level class. 

 

He spins the template and pushes it towards her. Slumped back in his chair, he sighs before asking: "Does he ever talk about me?" 

 

It's only fair, after all. This is their deal: he performs spectacularly and Mrs. Narita feeds him these little crumbs of information like he's a starving bird.

 

"Yes, sometimes," she answers in her maddeningly casual way, as though these tales aren't a precious commodity to Arthur. Glaring at the little monkey, she taps the screen once, twice, until it goes back to the main menu. "He mentioned you're very young, but quite lovely. He likes to watch those videos you sent."

 

Arthur's face warms at the compliment, and the memory of posing awkwardly in front of his bedroom wall, blathering about general interests because that's what was required of him. It's embarrassing, knowing he must have looked so gangly and insecure, and he's still those things, but Arthur likes to think he's grown a bit in his short time living in Japan. He speaks a whole knew language, put on a bit of muscle mass fighting off Ariadne, and his mind is sharper now that he knows more about the business world. "Is that all?" he murmurs, casting a shy glance Mrs. Narita's way.

 

Her eyes narrow at him, but it's only half-hearted. It's the expression she casts whenever he's being cheeky and pushing the limits of their deal. "Let's just say he's as eager to meet you as you are to meet him," she says, hand slapping the top of her notebook and inching it towards the table's edge — a telltale sign their time has drawn to a close.

 

***

 

The flowers arrive every Sunday after that — different types of bouquets, never the same flower twice. One time they're violets, another time dragon lilies. On Arthur's seventeenth birthday, they're roses. And the love notes get better each time, actually expressing sentiment instead of icy formality. Someone (most likely Mrs. Narita) must have spoken to Akio about his woeful wooing skills.

 

The note dangling from the violets reads: 

 

_Arthur—_

 

_My journey to find a mate was long and arduous. Hundreds sent videos, but your face was by far the loveliest._

 

He sat with that note for a long time, committing the words to memory, and afterwards slipped the card into a copy of _The Sound and The Fury_ he'd plucked off the bedroom bookshelf. 

 

Nestled in the lilies is the quiet confession: _I think about you every day_ that makes Arthur's heart swell with affection and lightens his mood for days because he no longer feels alone. Akio thinks obsessively about him too, and one day they're going to be together.

 

When he turns seventeen and the roses arrive, Akio boldly opens: _My love—_ and Arthur nearly drops the card into the fruit salad the chef places in front of him. _I am told each day you grow lovelier, and I look forward to witnessing your beauty for myself soon_. He reads this at a time when his hair sticks up in every direction and he sits clad in nothing but boxer shorts, a robe, and some slippers. And still he takes those words to heart, ruminates over them, allows them to catalyse a full body blush that warms him completely.

 

Akio loves him.

 

A second after making this realization, Arthur knows he loves him too. Somehow, he's fallen in love with a man, or maybe _the idea_ of a man he's never met.

 

***

 

A month after Akio tells Arthur he loves him for the first time, Takao Saito dies.

 

The news rocks the international community, even though his death was expected and Takao had been very elderly. But people are still shocked that the world is suddenly without the energy titan, and speculation immediately begins about when Akio will ascend to head the company. 

 

Arthur sits on the bedroom floor and gazes out the glass wall, watching as black banners unfurl from office and residential windows — each a sign of mourning for the country's corporate leader. It's strange to witness average people grieving the loss of a CEO, but Proclus Global is proof of Japan's leading place in the modern economy, and citizens worship the Saitos like a monarchy.

 

He stands and walks back into the living room to learn more details. There's going to be a big funeral procession, the news says, and Arthur figures out the cars are going to pass right in front of the penthouse tower. Just as he's beginning to wonder if he'll be required to attend the funeral, he hears the clicking of Kayo's heels on the floor. "Mr. Cunningham—" she says, biting off the words when she notices he's watching the news. "Oh, you've heard."

 

"Yes, it's terrible," he comments, even though he only has one memory of Takao — the man leaning on a gold and ivory cane in Arthur's childhood living room, but that was the beginning of his new life, and it seems like he should feel a modicum of sadness for the passing of a man who threw open a door to a universe of possibilities. Instead, his every appendage twitches with anticipation of what might come next. The news keeps saying Akio will take over Proclus, but if that's true he'll need to adopt all the accoutrements that come with professional life: namely, a mate.

 

Regardless, it feels like the wrong time to needle Kayo with questions, especially when she sits down on the large, black couch and bows her head. It takes Arthur a couple seconds to realise she's crying, but just when the knowledge visits him, she collects herself and casts an apologetic smile his way. There aren't even any tears smearing her pale makeup, but her eyes are slightly red as though she did the bulk of weeping before her arrival. "I'm sorry," she says, sniffling and clutching the ubiquitous template to her chest like a life raft. "I've known Mr. Saito since I was a little girl. His passing…has been difficult for me."

 

It's been a while since Arthur has experienced an intimate moment like this, but he remembers the gist of how to comfort another broken soul. Quickly, he sits down beside Kayo and peels her hands away from the iPad so he can cradle them. "Don't apologize. I'm really sorry. I know you were close to him." Kayo stares back at him timidly, and sure, they're a little out of their depths here, but Arthur wants her to know it's okay to feel emotions besides fierce loyalty to their daily schedule. "We're friends, Kayo. You know that, right?"

 

A tear spills down her cheek and she nods slightly. "I do," she sniffles again, and with the tip of her nose red, the woman who has been the capable captain of their ship for so long suddenly transforms into a vulnerable young girl. "You're so kind," she continues, seemingly apropos of nothing, but before Arthur can analyze her words, Kayo squeezes his hands firmly. "I wish you the very best, Mr. Cunningham."

 

***

 

He doesn't know where all the rose petals come from.

 

Arthur stands in the bedroom and watches them rain down from rows of skyscrapers that frame the main road, and it seems as though the white petals pour from every window. Idly, he wonders if Mr. Saito's people visited every occupant to gift them with baskets filled to the brims with petals, but that seems impossible. How would they have had the time and manpower to accomplish such a task? But then again — what other explanation is there? Surely, thousands of people didn't independently go out and purchase the exact same signature of grieving.

 

Outside, it looks as though it's snowing as the funeral procession passes (black hearse at the front), and Arthur practically presses his nose to the glass to see the cars. 

 

He wonders which one carries Akio.

 

***

 

Arthur sails through the air and lands hard on the mat, his back making a loud thwacking sound at the point of contact. 

 

"Don't let me get my hips under you, or that happens," tiny Ariadne explains as she circles around to extend a hand to Arthur.

 

"Point taken," he groans, accepting the hand so he can climb back to his feet.

 

Ariadne smirks. "You're getting much better. Don't get discouraged."

 

He opens his mouth, planning to counter with a smart ass comment (his time with Ariadne are the only moments he's permitted to be informal and sarcastic), but just then Kayo throws open the sliding doors to the sparring room. They both look up at her in surprise, but before either of them can speak, she blurts: "Your lessons for today are cancelled. You have to get ready for tonight." Flushed from exercise, Arthur stares at her as he mentally reviews his weekly schedule. He's had more than enough time to completely memorise the itinerary, and he knows for a fact nothing is pencilled in after his jiujitsu lesson. Kayo is already walking away from the room when she clarifies: "You are meeting Mr. Saito."

 

***

 

Arthur sits on the edge of his bed and tries not to have a heart attack as Kayo marches around his room, selecting garments and accessories. Occasionally, she asks him questions — little bits of trivia about Akio and Proclus, perhaps to ensure Arthur is ready to meet his betrothed, but also perhaps to make sure he's still coherent enough to understand what's going on.

 

His heartbeat thunders between his ears, and Arthur keeps rubbing his palms on the gi pants legs to wipe away the perspiration. The word _nervous_ doesn't adequately encompass the terror he is experiencing. He can't help but imagine the very worst case scenarios: Akio hates him, he finds Arthur boring, Arthur makes an unforgivable faux pas or botches the facts about Proclus. Akio realizes he's made a terrible decision and sends Arthur away, and then what? He can't go back to Kentucky. He'll be homeless and destitute — a rejected omega, the worst thing in the world.

 

"Did you take your suppressants this week?" Kayo asks, pausing from her task of finding a handkerchief to match the tie she has selected for Arthur.

 

"Not yet," he says, shaking his head. He usually takes his suppressants every Monday, but he hasn't done so yet.

 

"Good," Kayo answers, gaze shifts to the slew of handkerchiefs she's piled atop the dark blue suit, which is splayed across the bed. Arthur sits beside her project, watching with dull, glassy eyes. Arthur wishes he could be of some help, but he's currently terrified his heart will explode in his chest if he moves too suddenly. "Mr. Saito will want to smell you," she adds, as though that's a normal thing to say to a person.

 

Arthur blinks slowly. All this time, he's been having the wild farm boy bred out of him by these polished, brilliant professionals, and yet every language lesson and etiquette pointer has been window-dressing for the raw, biological reality of the situation. He, an omega, is about to meet an alpha. Either Akio will accept him and they'll mate, or reject him and…well…Arthur's life will pretty much be over at that point.

 

"What if he doesn't like me?" Arthur quietly asks, immediately regretting the question as soon as it leaves his mouth. He's supposed to be poised and dignified in this moment. Indeed, that's what the past year-and-a-half of training has been about. Arthur might be seventeen, but he's not a child anymore. He should meet any challenge with grit and determination, withstanding the onslaught with unshakeable certainty that he is equipped with the tools needed to solve any problem.

 

Instead, he feels like a child wildly out of his depths.

 

But if he must expose his wounds to anyone, Kayo is a good choice. She sits down on the other side of his suit and reaches across the outfit — which is quite stunning, actually — and holds his hands. "How could anyone not like you?" she asks softly, smiling in a supportive way that makes Arthur feel much better about the situation.

 

Her hands looks small and delicate contrasted against Arthur's palms. "I'm scared I won't remember everything you all have taught me," he confesses. He has over a year of lessons to draw from, but suddenly his brain feels simultaneously over-saturated and paralyzed, unable to summon any specific detail when he commands its. 

 

"That's not what this is about," Kayo quickly interjects. "This isn't a school test, Mr. Cunningham. You will meet him and both of you will instantly know."

 

"Know what?" he whispers.

 

She smiles slowly. "If you are two halves of a whole."

 

***

 

Arthur is fully dressed in a suit, hair shellacked from his face, shoes bright and polished, when it suddenly occurs to him that he's about to leave the penthouse for the first time in eighteen months. Momentarily, he's overcome with an inexplicable agoraphobic dread as he lingers by the lift, nervously eyeing the security scanner.

 

Kayo seems to sense something is wrong because she's instantly at his side, gently cradling his elbow. "There will be a town car downstairs waiting for you. The car will take you to the restaurant, and then you will be with Mr. Saito," she says. "Then all shall be well."

 

He nods, flashing what he hopes is a calm smile. "Thank you…for helping me," he says, the lift bell ringing on his last word. The doors slide open and he walks into the carriage and turns so that he can still see Kayo standing in the hallway. 

 

She looks serene, but beneath her perfectly coifed exterior, Arthur knows she's anxious for him — maybe a little excited, too. 

 

"I'll always help you, Mr. Cunningham," she says right before the doors slide shut.

 

***

 

He's outside for thirty seconds — just during the time it takes to walk from the main entrance to the car where the driver has opened the back door for him. And yet, Arthur is instantly overwhelmed by the noise of the city that the enormous six-inch-thick panes of glass have been filtering out all this time. He keeps his head bowed and walks straight for the car, climbs inside, and holds his breath until the door shuts behind him.

 

Only then can he breathe again.

 

The driver doesn't speak to him, as is the custom of all the workers charged with manual labor tasks who operate in his immediate vicinity. Arthur has learned to distinguish between this respectful silence and the hostile freeze out adopted by other employees.

 

(When maintenance men visited the penthouse to repair the elevator, one of the workers referred to Arthur as "Gaijin," an offensive term for a non-Japanese person. The poor sod nearly had a heart attack when Arthur responded in perfect Japanese: "This _Gaijin_ will be sure to tell Mr. Saito what you think of his future mate." He spent nearly thirty minutes begging for Arthur's forgiveness until he calmly patted the man's shoulder and said he was forgiven).

 

This time, the driver has clearly been instructed not to communicate with Arthur, so he sits in silence, hands folded in his lap as he stares out the window. They arrive in the heart of downtown Tokyo where all the luxury stores and swank hotels and restaurants are located. The car pulls up in front of an opulent building with tall white pillars lining the exterior, and before Arthur can grip the door handle, a man opens the door for him. Arthur mumbles his thanks and hurries for the door. 

 

"Mr. Cunningham!" the man calls to his back. "You're taking the private elevator, sir," he says, pulling open a door beside the main entrance.

 

As it turns out, the private elevator leads to a glass-encased terrace on the roof, and Akio must have bought out the entire room because when the doors slide open Arthur sees there isn't anyone else seated at the other tables.

 

In fact, the only person in the place is the man standing by the table located in the direct centre of the roof. He's young — probably twenty-five, dressed in a smart black suit and matching tie, his arms clutched behind him as he observes Arthur step from the elevator. Instantly, Arthur knows this is Akio — not just because he's been studying the man via internet searches and news-watching, but because he emits a kind of regal decorum possessed only by a type of person that was born within, and raised to rule, an empire.

 

Arthur swallows thickly and walks towards him, and the short journey seems to take forever because Akio's dark, curious gaze watches him the whole time. Throughout all his lessons, no one ever braced Arthur for what he's supposed to do in this moment, so he decides to improvise. He pauses in front of Akio, lifts his chin, and smiles slightly — polite, but not too forward, no teeth — "Mr. Saito. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

 

He's no more than six inches from the man, and Arthur realises his careful collection of information has not prepared him for meeting Akio in the flesh. For starters, visually monitoring him from afar did not brace Arthur for how he smells — rich and musky, like most alphas, but also notes that remind him of the earth. He thinks maybe the scent is sandalwood, but he can't be sure, and surely burying his nose against Akio's throat would later earn a distressed cry from Kayo and a battered ear courtesy of Mrs. Narita.

 

The corner of Akio's mouth quirks upwards, as though he finds Arthur's formality amusing. "Akio, please. I have no intention of calling you Mr. Cunningham," he says, reaching for Arthur's hand, but instead of shaking it, he brings it to his mouth so he can kiss the backs of his knuckles and inhale Arthur's scent.

 

Arthur's cheeks flush and his Adam's apple bobs as he watches the extremely intimate gesture. Of course, it's Akio's right to touch him as he pleases, but Arthur thought there would be…well, he's not sure. Perhaps more time before they moved on to such familiar behavior. But there are no prying eyes around, so Arthur decides he's being silly by feeling embarrassed. This man is going to be his husband, so he must get used to these kinds of displays. "Akio," he corrects softly, another wave of heat washing over him when the alpha gazes down at him.

 

He's taller than Arthur by a few inches and broad in the shoulders — all details he was able to gather by collecting intel, but Arthur couldn't have known how rich the baritone of his voice sounds in person — how it lures and soothes without exertion. 

 

Briefly, he thinks _this is what Kayo was talking about_. It isn't like his language or business lessons. Becoming Akio's mate isn't going to require effort in the same way the aptitude test at NOI did. Whatever will happen between them is already happening independently of Arthur and Akio's control. 

 

His hand feels heavy when Akio eventually relinquishes the grip. "You're far lovelier in person," the alpha comments, casually, like such a statement isn't perfectly designed to squeeze the air from Arthur's lungs. Before he can recover fully, Akio is already pulling out a chair for him, and Arthur remembers enough of Mal's etiquette training to have the good sense to sit down as Akio pushes it forward.

 

"Thank you," he manages to say, and adds: "This place is beautiful."

 

It feels like they're seated at the very top of the city, the 360-degree view comprised mostly of the night sky. Strangely, Akio looks less than smitten with the aesthetics, which confuses Arthur until the man is seated before him and comments: "I'm glad you like it. My father owns — _owned_ this restaurant."

 

Arthur presses his lips together and nods slowly. He briefly recalls a blizzard of white rose petals. "I'm very sorry…about your father. He was a great man."

 

Akio scoffs and waves his hand through the air, then looks as though he's going to say something biting about his father, but just manages to corral the cruel words. He shakes his head and peers off into the distance, and just when Arthur is beginning to think he's said something unforgivably stupid, the alpha speaks again: "He never trusted me to be my own man." Arthur gazes at him, afraid to speak because, well, what is a person supposed to say in response to that? Akio has permission to speak ill of his father because he's Takao's son and he knew the man better than anyone, but Arthur is a stranger in a foreign land, and he doesn't have the same liberty. The alpha leans back in his chair and smirks. "I didn't even make this reservation. My father booked the table the same day he told me about you." He shakes his head, gazing off to the side again. "Truthfully, I don't even like this place."

 

He watches the alpha closely, making sure the man has finished speaking before he suggests: "We can leave…if you like." He wasn't braced to have a candid discussion about the logistics of father-son relationships in the Saito clan, but Arthur knows his job is to accommodate and soothe his future mate.

 

Saito sighs heavily, but he doesn't look annoyed — simply defeated and fatigued by the memories of his oppressive father. "And go where? It's a Friday night at eight o'clock. Every table in the city is booked."

 

Arthur shrugs, already pushing back his chair. "We can go for a walk through the park. I'm not hungry anyway." He's been too nervous to muster much of an appetite, and as a cartography enthusiast, Arthur happens to know Ueno Park and its cherry blossoms are only a few blocks away.

 

The alpha watches him, amused, a faint smirk on his lips. "I'm supposed to propose the date, Arthur," he says, a faint chuckle in his voice as he stands from the table.

 

"Oh, well, pretend it's your idea," he says, grinning, waiting for Akio to lead the way to the elevator.

 

***

 

It's odd to go for a romantic walk through Ueno Park with two large security guards walking close behind them. Both men wear identical dark suits, plus sunglasses and earpieces like they're Secret Service, and apparently Akio thinks this is totally normal because he doesn't even look fazed as passersby openly gawk at them. One man steps forward, smartphone raised in the air, and he intends to take a photo of them until one of the burly sentinels steps forth and covers the camera's lens. The guard says something in gruff, swift Japanese, and the startled man immediately pockets the phone.

 

Arthur doesn't see the end of the interaction because Akio turns down a more secluded path. His arm is looped with the man's and he's pressed close to the alpha's side as they stroll along the pathway, dress shoes cutting through a soft bed of cherry blossom petals. 

 

"Thank you…" Akio sighs eventually, flashing a smile at Arthur, "For suggesting this." Arthur actually feels the moment the muscles in Akio's arm and side relax, as though the man has finally relinquished a breath he's been holding all evening. "Most courted omegas would be angry with an alpha that gives up a reservation at a five-star restaurant," he teases.

 

Arthur laughs. He's sure that's true, especially regarding wealthy omegas accustomed to being wined and dined by billionaires, and he supposes he's one of those omegas now, but he doesn't feel like it. A part of him — perhaps a large part — will always be a timid boy from a poor farming family. "I just wanted to be somewhere quiet…so we can talk," he confesses, recalling the past months of isolation, loneliness, and study. Everything has been building to this moment — when he meets the alpha who will be his mate, and Arthur doesn't care where they speak. All that matters is Akio is finally with him.

 

Akio's expression softens in the wake of Arthur's words and he reaches across to rest his hand atop the omega's. "In your video…I thought you seemed very pure and sweet. You are unlike the other omegas my father presented to me."

 

"What were the other omegas like?" Arthur asks curiously.

 

Akio smiles and chuckles, shaking his head in exasperation. "If I am being kind, I would say…difficult. Selfish. Entitled, maybe." His brow furrows thoughtfully. "But you are not like that," he adds, face brightening when a thought occurs to him. "And the piano. Have you enjoyed playing it?"

 

They come to a pause on the path, and Arthur is aware of the guards a few feet away, but the bulk of his attention is devoted to Akio. The man is watching him closely, and he smiles, blushing slightly, enormously flattered that the alpha remembered his throwaway video confession and gifted him with a very expensive piano. "I have…it's beautiful. Thank you."

 

"Show me," Akio says suddenly, taking his hand, and whisking Arthur back towards the main path.

 

***

 

They end their first date at the penthouse, which apparently Akio has never seen before, because he spends the first few minutes wandering from room-to-room examining Arthur's living conditions and asking questions about if he's been properly looked after, and if he's found the living arrangement suitable. It's sweet, if not a little rigidly formal, and a bit odd to have first Akio, then guard number one, and finally guard number two, following him around like ducklings.

 

Because Arthur was never permitted to leave the penthouse, he hasn't acquired much in the way of bric-a-brac, but Akio seems to notice every little tell and detail. He pauses in the bedroom to examine the stack of books by the bed and smiles at Arthur, commenting softly, "You like Faulkner," and Arthur answers with the obligatory flush and flattered smile because, once again, Akio has noticed something about him and responded like a thrilled archeologist discovering a precious artefact. They move into the sunken living room, guards perched on the higher level leading to the hallway, as Akio looks around and finally settles on the piano bench. "Play me something," he requests.

 

When Arthur casts a nervous look to the guards, Akio waves them away and the men turn without comment and disappear down the hallway.

 

Settling beside the alpha, Arthur smiles faintly, fingers spreading across the keys. "I'm not very good," he warns, not wanting Akio to adopt any unrealistic expectations about his skill level as an entertainer. Their shoulders press together, and Arthur furtively inhales so he can enjoy a greedy moment breathing in Akio's scent again. _Yes, definitely sandalwood_.

 

Arthur begins to play some Bach, Aria variata in A minor, and Akio silently watches his fingers float across the keys. His face burns at first because he's hyper-aware of the alpha at his side, but eventually Arthur loses himself in the rhythm, in the little trills peppered throughout the aria. Akio doesn't comment the whole nine minutes of the piece, not even when Arthur has to stretch across his flank to hit the high notes. It's only when he strikes the final chord that Akio claps, and Arthur laughs shyly in response, doing a sort of half-bow.

 

"Impressive, Arthur," he says, smiling.

 

He recognises the urge to reflexively reject the compliment, but instead recalls his training and smiles politely: "Thank you." His hands slide from the keys and he can't help the self-deprecating shrug. "I've had lots of time to practice."

 

Akio hums thoughtfully and nods, his hand gently resting atop Arthur's on the bench. "Yes…but soon you'll live with me."

 

The breath hitches in Arthur's throat and he nods timidly, the thought of _living_ with Akio, and what that means, making his face and neck burn. He must be blushing furiously, but when he glances at Akio, the man looks amused, perhaps even a little charmed, as he turns toward Arthur to observe his response. "Yes…" he agrees softly on an exhale.

 

"The thought pleases you?" Akio asks, touching the side of Arthur's face with his free hand.

 

"Yes," he whispers again before the alpha leans forward to kiss him. 

 

During his solitude, Arthur has had ages to imagine their first kiss, but once again he finds his imagination lacking. Akio is overwhelming — his physical presence, the confident air of him (the way his hand slides from Arthur's cheek to neck, thumb gently stroking the side of his throat), and the scent that blankets Arthur when he leans close to him. Tentatively, he reaches up, fingers curling around the lapels of Akio's jacket, pulling ever-so-slightly, which the alpha seems to enjoy because he makes a low, rumbling sound and presses forward, deepening the embrace. Arthur can't get enough air into his lungs and his heart hammers treacherously in his chest, but he doesn't want it to end. He doesn't—

 

Akio is the one to pull back, a quasi-guilty grin hanging on his lips as he gazes at Arthur's face. He must look a wreck, flushed and breathless, but the alpha's expression is tender when he reaches up to lightly trace Arthur's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Goodnight," he says, and Arthur is too stunned to answer for several moments — not until Akio stands and is walking towards the hallway.

 

"Goodnight," he murmurs.

 

***

 

For many months, Arthur has dreamt of Akio — or the idea of him. A tall man with broad shoulders replaced his mother in his dreams, but unlike before, this phantom he can catch and touch. Being sexually inexperienced, Arthur's dreams lacked specifics, but after his first date with Akio, certain details affix themselves to the moment: a large hand touches his cheek, expertly grips and strokes his throat, warm lips crushing against his mouth, coaxing it open. Warmth spreads between his thighs, which is when Arthur knows the phantom is gripping between his legs, rubbing and grinding until—

 

He awakes in a nest of tangled, wet sheets. Embarrassed, Arthur quickly strips the bed and shoves the soiled bits (and his pyjamas) into the hamper, all the while praying that the routinely silent maids won't raise an eyebrow at the mess. Afterwards, he undresses in the bathroom and examines himself in the mirror, noting the mess is located on his stomach and between his thighs. He sits in the deep bathtub and runs the water extra hot, scrubbing at his skin with a wash cloth. 

 

Arthur's sexual reproduction classes have been rudimentary, at best. Everyone talks about Akio in ambiguous terms. Yes, he'll one day be the alpha's husband, or mate, but he's still not entirely sure what sex will be like. Judging by the one kiss they've shared, he knows it's going to very intense.

 

The idea of actually sleeping with Akio is very appealing, but it also terrifies him.

 

He doesn't have time to wade in dread, however, because Kayo is scheduled to come by (as she does every morning to check in on him), so Arthur quickly changes into a suit he knows she'll approve of, and he's just tied his dress shoes when he hears the front door open. He hurries into the living room, eager to obsessively dissect every minute detail of last night's date with Kayo, but before he can so much as greet her, she smiles brightly and declares: "You did so well, Mr. Cunningham. Mr. Saito is quite pleased."

 

The rush of pride that swells in his chest surprises him. Of course, he'd known gaining Akio's approval was a key part of his mission, but he hadn't anticipated the genuine joy securing it brings him. "Really?" he sighs, mirroring the glowing expression on Kayo's face. "It felt like it went really well, but— What did he say?"

 

She shoots him a sly, knowing look as she saunters over to the couch and sits down gracefully, long legs crossing at the ankles. "He wishes to marry you at once."

 

Which has been the goal all along, and still hearing the words leaves Arthur breathless. He pauses by a chair with a high back and grips the top of it. "When?" he asks, eyes wide with surprise.

 

"This Sunday," Kayo coolly replies, chin bowed as she swipes and types frantically at her template, "So we will have to expedite the process, rush your suit, print the invitations tonight, don't worry, no one will dare miss Mr. Saito's wedding," she adds cheekily, flashing a wry smirk.

 

The goal: not to faint or vomit. Arthur circles and sits down heavily in the chair — too heavily, because the legs tip up slightly and _thunk_ heavily on the descent, but Kayo doesn't even notice. She's in planner mode now, banging out details, overcoming the seemingly insurmountable. Arthur doesn't care who the guests are. He won't know most of them, anyway. What he's trying to process is the nagging word _Sunday_ spinning in his brain. That's one day from now. In one day, he'll be married to Akio. Omega Saito. The omega of the most powerful alpha in all of Japan.

 

"Why—" he gasps, swallowing thickly when Kayo looks up at him. "Why so soon?"

 

Confusion mars Kayo's pale face. Like Arthur just switched languages and doesn't speak impeccable Japanese now. " _Why_?" she parrots. "Because this is the whole point of everything." Then she looks back to the iPad and resumes tapping.

 

Which, fair enough. Okay, yes, this is why Arthur's parents sold him and he flew to Japan and has been taking non-stop business, etiquette, and _jiujitsu_ (for heaven's sake) lessons, but _still_. 

 

Arthur takes a deep breath and tries to summon some perspective. He is an omega — an uber-omega — so his feelings, fears, and reservations magically don't count. His destiny is duty and obligation because he's biologically designed to be a perfect incubator for a powerful alpha. He will provide Akio with as many children as he desires, and their offspring will be perfect because that's how the two of them are made. It makes sense that Akio sees no reason to put off the inevitable, and in a weird way, it's sort of flattering the alpha now wants to rush things so they can finally be together.

 

Depending on how he looks at it, he's either won or lost the lottery.

 

"I, um…" Arthur stammers, face warm as he tries to find the right words to convey his message but smudge the more humiliating minutiae. "I had a dream about Akio last night. It felt really…real."

 

Now in fierce handler mode, Kayo looks pleased, as though Arthur has just spilled the best news in the world. "Good," she says, smiling. "You're bonding."

 

She has a way of making things seem small and manageable, and Arthur nods and slumps back in his chair. _Bonding_. That's good too. All of this is good, and he keeps repeating that as he sits there frozen like a statue while Kayo plans what will be the most important day of his life.

 

***

 

The day of the wedding, Kayo is a constant presence at his side, from the fitting of his tuxedo (Tom Ford, she helps him secure the bow tie because his hands are shaking too badly), to the moment they enter the grand hall through a side entrance and she aids him in navigating the labyrinth that leads to a waiting room. He immediately sits down and she kneels before him, even though she'll likely wrinkle her lovely pale pink chiffon, and fans him rapidly with what looks like a Broadway playbill. But when Arthur takes it from her hands, he sees it's the wedding program.

 

"What's this?" he asks dumbly, even though on the cover, clear as day, it reads: _Arthur Cunningham & Akio Saito_. Kayo must sense he's working it out because she takes the program from his hands and continues fanning him. "How many people are out there?"

 

"Five hundred," she responds and when his eyes widen, she quickly adds: "You won't meet most of them, and I'll be with you to say who is who."

 

"I'm going to faint," he gasps, slumped forward, elbows to knees.

 

"No, no," she answers dismissively, the cool breeze still washing across his face as she _flickflickflicks_ the program.

 

***

 

The hall is packed from wall-to-wall with seats, a narrow white strip cutting down the middle that Arthur walks down, every pair of eyes in the place fixed on him and burning holes in the back of his head. No one has seen him yet, so everyone wants at eyeful, and an excited collective murmur shoots up to the rafters the second he emerges into the main room. He speaks the language fluidly now, but the voices are all indistinct, and he can't distinguish them over the live orchestra anyway. Photography isn't allowed, and all the guests were forced to turn over their smartphones before the reception (no live-tweeting or picture-taking, thank you very much), so Arthur can tell people are trying to commit everything to memory to gossip about later — what he looks like, what he's wearing, how he carried himself toward Akio and the Shinto priest clad in his white robe and black eboshi.

 

Arthur keeps his gaze glued to Akio, who emits such happiness and pride that he knows he must be doing well. A bright smile breaks out across his face, and distantly a voice reminds him not to emote so loudly, but the alpha's eyes shine happily, so he doesn't think Akio is cross. 

 

The ceremony itself doesn't take very long, a good thing because the room is swelteringly hot with so many bodies crammed under one roof. At one point, the priest hands them small cups filled with sake, and Arthur follows Akio's lead, downing it in one gulp. When he screws up his face in response to the bitter taste, the guests titter with laughter and the alpha grins down at him. "Well done," he whispers, which Arthur is pretty sure he wasn't supposed to do, but the idea that Akio is breaking tradition in order to utter some words of support warms him from head-to-toe.

 

Or maybe that's just the sake.

 

Next, they read the words of commitment, and at the end of everything, they offer small tokens to the kami, or spirit, to provide health, luck, and success to them in their new life. No one ever says the words _kiss your mate_ , or _I present to you Arthur Saito_ , but suddenly Akio cups his face and leans down to kiss him, and the guests erupt in applause. Arthur is stunned that it's over so soon, but Akio's mouth is plush and warm, and he melts against him, the alpha's strong arm looping around his waist to steady him. When they separate, Akio smiles, and the expression makes him look years younger.

 

They're married. He officially belongs to Akio.

 

***

 

The reception is in an adjacent space with green walls and three gold chandeliers. Kayo whisks him away to change into a smart blue suit and grey tie, and then deposits him at Akio's side as they begin the long process of greeting everyone before they sit at the large, circular tables sprinkled throughout the enormous room. It's strange. Arthur knows in his heart that he should feel sad or lonely that he doesn't have family at the wedding, but all he feels is gratitude that his is a simple role consisting of standing beside his mate, holding his hand, and repeating the names Kayo subtly whispers into his ear ( _Mr. Yoshida_ , she whispers, "Mr. Yoshida, thank you so much for coming," Arthur answers dutifully).

 

The only times he doesn't need to rely on Kayo's assistance is when he sees familiar faces: The Cobbs are in attendance, Mrs. Cobb greeting him excitedly, kissing both cheeks, and cooing over his suit, while Dom watches from behind her, brow furrowed in mild concern as it always seems to when he watches Arthur. "How're you feeling?" the man asks, a strange question given today is Arthur's wedding day. 

 

"I'm wonderful," Arthur soothes, smiling at him.

 

Dom nods very seriously, gripping his shoulder tightly. "Good….good."

 

Ariadne is also in attendance, half-blitzed from the open bar already, and she doesn't seem to notice Akio's extended hand because she immediately goes for an enthusiastic hug. "This is so great!" she crows, loud and American, and it reminds Arthur so much of home that he bursts out laughing when she launches into his arms.

 

Mrs. Narita shuffles over next, hunched against her cane, seemingly so frail until her gaze falls upon them, and Arthur recognizes the curling smirk. "Well, here you are," she says, addressing Arthur before Akio, a breach in protocol, but then again…this _is_ Mrs. Narita they're dealing with.

 

"Here I am," he echoes, leaning down to affectionately kiss her cheek.

 

"My clever boy," she sighs, nodding approvingly, but the tender moment comes to an abrupt end when she levels a threatening, bony finger at Akio. "Mind him well. I see everything, you know." And with that cryptic message, she hobbles off.

 

The alpha chuckles, shaking his head.

 

It takes an hour-and-a-half to greet everyone, and while the guests happily drink and eat the succulent food, Akio guides him around the room to meet his family — cousins, uncles, aunts, a whole slew of Saitos, who all know him, and seem genuinely pleased at their union. 

 

"Hungry?" Akio whispers to him at one point as they glide between tables, on to the next one.

 

"Famished," he replies, smiling a little guilty. He knows he shouldn't complain, but…

 

The alpha chuckles at his side. "We'll box you something to go. You can eat it at the flat."

 

He's holding Akio's arm at the time, so hopefully his mate doesn't notice the little stutter in his step when his brain processes that information. Of course. They're married now, so Arthur will never return to the penthouse that has been his home all these months. He's Akio's husband now, and they'll live together — in a larger home where they will raise children. 

 

The next few relatives he's introduced to blur together — faces indistinct, names already forgotten because all he can think is: _everything is different now_.

 

***

 

"Do you know why my father chose you?"

 

He poses the question after all the festivities are finished and they're in the back of the town car, heading…home, he supposes. He ought to start referring to it as home, even inside his own head. They're seated close, shoulders pressed together, Arthur's head resting on Akio's shoulder, but he looks up at him when the alpha speaks. The reception exhausted him, even though apart from the ceremony they were not the centre of attention. Yes, there were speeches and dances, but never a spotlit waltz comprised of just the two of them.

 

For that, he's thankful. Things were nerve-wrecking enough without the added pressure. He'd been standing to the side of the dance floor while Akio greeted some guests, watching an elderly couple (the governor of Tokyo and his wife) whirl around the floor when Kayo whispered into his ear: "It is more a celebration for the city."

 

He's learning. In Japan, the collective is more important than the individual, so the wedding is more for the people than for them.

 

With that in mind, he wagers: "Because I'll give you children, and they'll run the company one day."

 

Warm and tender, the alpha's fingers graze his cheekbone. "Yes, but also because you will balance me." Arthur's eyes nearly shut at the soothing contact. He recalls a lesson in _gentling_ , a mate's ability to calm their partner with just a simple touch. "You are everything I am not," the alpha whispers against his brow, a second before warm lips press against his forehead.

 

***

 

 _Must be the sake_ , he thinks dimly when he realizes the car is stopped and Akio is attempting to pull him gently from the car without hitting his head on the top of the door. "Almost there," says the alpha's familiar baritone. Arthur feels heavy and it's hard to shape words with his mouth, but oddly his other senses are sharper. He inhales the car's exhaust and the driver's cologne; the overwhelming and alluring scent of Akio that makes him think of running barefoot through a forrest, the earth smelling of rain. It's only when he smells flowers that Arthur knows they're in a new place, then everything else comes into focus: his feet trudging along marble floor, figure heavily leaned against Akio, the alpha's arm looped around his waist, voice in his ear: "Almost there…few more steps."

 

Elevators have a smell, too: grease and varnish polish, which is how Arthur knows he's in one when he leans against a cool wall that must be a mirror. He opens his eyes and another Arthur and Akio are gazing back at him. "You're in heat, my love," Akio comments, stroking the damp, curling locks at the back of his neck. It feels nice, so Arthur shuts his eyes and moans softly.

 

Of course. _He's in heat._

 

Like most things, Arthur imagined this moment all wrong. His brain is too scrambled to properly soak up the details he'd been wondering about: how Akio would open the door (would he carry him over the threshold?), what Akio's home looks like, how much larger it might be. By the time they reach the door, Arthur is clinging to the alpha, and Akio ends up half-carrying him into a room that smells so much like him that Arthur instantly knows it's the bedroom.

 

Akio reaches down to grip his rear, an unexpected and aggressive move that causes Arthur to gasp in surprise. The back of his pants are drenched, just like the sheets had been before, and he whimpers in distress, a mixture of fear and embarrassment. Though he knows the wetness is natural, and somehow a part of his heat, Arthur has spent months smoothing his rough, country edges, and he's afraid the base physical response wracking his body will frighten or anger the alpha.

 

It's clear that's not the case when Akio surges forward to kiss him, and Arthur barely has enough time to throw his arms around the alpha's neck as they back-step towards the bed. The edge buckles his knees and he falls heavily to the mattress, grabbing at the comforter for purchase when Akio roughly yanks his pants and underwear down. Somehow, they're already open (or the alpha might have broken the clasp), and Arthur kicks as much as he can to assist in their removal. Akio shoves them down as far as his knees when suddenly Arthur grasps his shoulders and gasps: "Wait…wait" because everything is happening too fast.

 

A gust of pheromones and detergent explodes up around him when Akio presses down, pelvis to pelvis, pinning his wrists to the bed. The alpha makes a soothing sound with his mouth, kissing his burning face and the spot beneath his ear as he whispers: "You were made for this, my love." He sounds calm, but his erection is pressed into Arthur's hip, a threat and a promise. The layer of designer fabric between them is laughable, a joke, barely a barrier at all in the presence of Akio. He knows the alpha could tear the rest of his clothes right off him, but he doesn't. He's waiting for permission.

 

He's right, of course. The wetness pours out of him, already pooling beneath his ass, readying the way. Arthur is scared, but the rest of him doesn't know that. The rest of him waits with bated breath for the alpha. Akio's words soothe him, a verbal kind of gentling, and he lays still when the alpha releases him and reaches down to unbuckle his pants. He's never seen an alpha naked before, and though he's not nude now, Arthur catches and eyeful when he glances down. His eyes widen. The alpha is big — much bigger than Arthur, and he's more than a little intimidated at the prospect of fitting all of that inside him.

 

His expression must be comical because Akio chuckles fondly and kisses him again, stubble around his mouth scratching Arthur's pale skin. "On your stomach," he commands authoritatively, lifting the fog, and Arthur instantly obeys without another thought. Strong hands push and pull, yanking off his jacket, Arthur arching his back and extending his arms backwards to help. The dress shirt becomes a casualty of war, little pearl buttons spraying in every direction when Akio loses patience and simply tears it from him like the fabric is made of tissue paper. Arthur's hips fit perfectly in the alpha's hands, yanked backwards, the trousers pooled around his ankles.

 

Little keens pour from him, excited and terrified, his cheek pressed to the mattress, balanced on his tip toes. Akio continues to make the soothing noises, alternating between stroking his spine and gripping his hips to keep the omega pinned in place. He's so wet that the head presses inside effortlessly, a bit of a surprise considering Arthur was prepared for enormous pain. "Good boy," Akio pants, and Arthur glances over his shoulder, trying to watch, but all he can see is a glimpse of the alpha, still completely dressed saved for his unclasped pants, mounted behind him. It's when he pushes forward that the shock ratchets up his spine.

 

"Ah!" Arthur cries, because his tongue won't allow him to say _no_ , or _stop_ , or deny the alpha in any way. But thankfully, Akio understands and stops midway, gently thrusting to relax him and accommodate the omega to the intrusion. Another pulse of wetness gushes out him and the alpha groans, stomach pressing against Arthur's perspiring back as he wetly kisses the omega's neck, issuing words like _beautiful_ against his skin in praise. The kisses distract him, as does the pressure when Akio holds his neck, pinning him to the bed during the final thrust. His mouth opens in a silent cry, eyes squeezed shut and thighs straining as they part. 

 

Neither of them speak, instead opting for panting and groans as they lay there, the alpha draped over his back. He feels so full that the idea that either of them will eventually move seems impossible. If Akio thrusts even once, he's going to split him in half. However, the body disagrees with his mind's assessment. The first time Akio pulls out to the head and smoothly thrusts back into him, Arthur's body sings in joy. Akio's length rubs against the spot deep inside him that previously throbbed in pain, but now explodes in electrical bursts. He moans the alpha's name over and over, overcome by the desperate desire to encourage him any way he can. Akio can't stop. He _can't_.

 

He rocks onto the balls of his feet, straining to thrust backwards — to meet Akio's hips and shove his cock deeper. The alpha growls, gripping the back of Arthur's neck and keeping him in place as he fucks him hard. Arthur wails, fists balled on the bed, erection dragging against the comforter. Akio ruts him roughly, no longer concerned that his little omega might break under his ministrations. Instead, Arthur greets him enthusiastically, encouraging with every moan and yowl. 

 

Akio flips him over, his cock slipping out and earning a disappointed huff from Arthur, until he throws the omega's legs over his shoulders and buries himself again. This position is _so_ much better because he can see Akio, and stroke his dick in time with the rhythm of his hips. Ordinarily, the alpha is incredibly sexy, but especially now, wearing a suit, bucking atop Arthur. "Akio…I'm—" is the only warning he can provide before he comes, the jettison across his stomach accompanying another rush of moisture. 

 

The fibres of the comforter drag roughly against his skin as Akio rearranges them on the bed, pushing until they're centred on the mattress. _This won't do_ , Arthur thinks, already imagining swapping the sandpaper polyester for something soft and organic. The thought sails out of his head when Akio spoons him and pushes back inside, huge and hard and buried to the hilt. Arthur bites his lip, stifling the swear that threatens to escapes his throat, and locks his jaw when the alpha's hips begin undulating again. He's sore, but it still feels so good, and his body seems to have an endless supply of lubricant to ease the passage. 

 

Aiko makes a soft, broken sound against the back of his neck on the final thrust, Arthur's heart clenching in response. The alpha's hand rests against his chest, and Arthur covers his fingers, squeezing them tenderly. He's only read about the knot in sex-ed pamphlets, but the literature really doesn't brace young omegas for what it's really like — how the alpha's generous length somehow grows even bigger until it seems like it will be too much. Arthur doesn't dare object, instead focusing on steadying his breath. He lays perfectly still, Akio whispering words of encouragement as often as he can. 

 

Finally, the release. The pamphlets also don't say how good it feels: a burn, somehow more filling than the sex and the knot itself, and then the silence. The throbbing gone. The unreachable itch, vanished. Arthur is sated, but more importantly, he feels safe and at peace. The months of loneliness were worth it for this moment now that he is officially bonded with his mate. He turns just enough to smile at Akio, who looks wrecked, and he feels more than a little smug knowing he's the reason. Arthur reaches up to grip Akio's tie and pull him forward into a lazy kiss. 

 

There is laughter rumbling in Akio's chest, his smile pressed to Arthur's grinning mouth when he asks: "You're happy?"

 

"I am," Arthur answers sincerely.

 

He means it, at the time.

 

***

 

The next morning, Arthur awakes when the automatic curtains part, sunlight pouring through the large windows and across their bed. Akio is still snoring happily, so Arthur slips out of bed, fetches a robe, and proceeds to explore his new home. He feels silly and naive for ever thinking the previous penthouse, while very large, was by any definition a _mansion_. This residence is an estate in the sky — a sprawling, multilevel modern wonder with every conceivable amenity. Arthur doesn't have clearance to take the lift to the top level, but he explores the other floors, including the gym _and_ the sparring room (two separate rooms), the enormous kitchen, entertainment centre, dining room, living room (complete with grand piano), guest rooms, library (in itself two levels, connected by a spiral staircase), and those are only the doors that are open. Several doors are locked, or require a swipe card. 

 

Akio's style is modern mixed with precious artefacts, most likely handed down through generations. He likes it. It's nice to have family heirlooms sandwiched between the harsh, uncompromising straight lines. He rides the elevator down to the first floor and wanders the perimeter until he spots open french doors and sees Akio sitting on the patio beside a small table. "Good morning," he greets with a smile, newspaper in hand. 

 

"Morning," Arthur says, leaning down to kiss him before flopping down in a chair. Two cups of coffee rest on the table, so he picks up the fuller of the two and takes a big gulp. Coffee is something of a new experience for him, but Arthur has found he likes it with lots of cream and sugar. The silent chef who previously prepared his meals must have passed along this note because it's made perfectly. 

 

"Having fun exploring?" Akio asks, an amused note in his voice as he continues reading the paper. He's wearing a gorgeous burgundy robe that probably cost as much as the entirety of Arthur's old wardrobe. It's open at the chest, and Arthur's gaze lingers on the exposed plain of olive flesh. Akio is beautiful as only an alpha can be: strong and effortlessly confident, each movement and glance a mechanism to entice and soothe omegas. In their frenzy last night, Arthur hadn't been able to properly enjoy the view, but he looks forward to their next rutting so he can explore every inch of him. He hums affirmatively, offering a flirty little smile that appears to work because Akio closes his newspaper at once, folds it, and sets it aside so the omega has his undivided attention. Arthur's smile brightens. Maybe he's not so bad at this coupling thing after all. Brows quirked in interest, Akio leans forward a bit. "Tell me what you discovered."

 

Arthur sighs and leans back in his chair, head tilting back in mock thought, exposing his throat and collarbone. He's not sure how, but he knows the sight will thrill the alpha. When he dares to glance at Akio, sure enough, he's hungrily eyeing where the robe parts to reveal his flesh. "I like the piano," he says, grinning slowly.

 

His movements are predatory and calculating, fingers unfurling incrementally, but only to grasp the cup and bring it to his lips. All the while, his dark gaze burns a hole in Arthur's clavicle. He drinks, then sets down the cup. "I thought you might," he counters, tone cool and unattached. Suddenly, he stands, chair legs screeching against the terrace pavement. "Come. Play for me."

 

The funny thing is, he actually does end up playing. For a little bit, anyway. Beethoven's _Für Elise_ , which his mother always hated because she said it was a sad song, but Arthur's two cents are nothing could be further from the truth. It's a beautiful piece — sad, yes, but he always found strange comfort in it's delicate fragility. Anyway, he doesn't get very far into before Akio pulls him onto his lap and they end up rutting right then and there, the omega riding him, gripping the edge of the piano. It's different than before — still passionate, but the build is slower and starts deep inside him, spreading out like a wildfire until he's shaking and crying. Akio's breath washes across the curves of his neck, kissing, sucking, biting — marking the strip of flesh he had used to tease the alpha — the whole time groaning: "Arthur…Arthur…"

 

Their first week together comprises such intimate moments, interspersed with meals, Arthur playing the piano, Akio reading poetry to him on the terrace. It's wonderful, but it shouldn't come as a surprise when Arthur wakes up sick one morning and Kayo hurries over to their home armed with a bag of pregnancy tests, and yes, they all come back positive. He's going to have a baby before his eighteenth birthday, and it's this thought that paralyses the muscles in his legs, and forces him to sit down on the closed toilet immediately. Of course he's happy, if not a little surprised, even though he knew this would be the outcome of their dalliances. He just didn't think it would happen so quickly.

 

"How wonderful! What a joyous day," Kayo cries, all happy, light energy. Arthur flashes a smile, attempting to summon the same unbridled positivity. He nods and stands, wiping his palms on the sides of his slacks. 

 

"I need to tell Akio," he says, and for once, Kayo doesn't immediately scold him for failing to say _Mr. Saito_. He's allowed to call the alpha by his first name now. After all, their child is now growing inside him.

 

He finds the alpha in his study seated behind a large oak desk and examining a thick portfolio of graphs and charts. When reading fine print, Akio wears a pair of glasses, the wire rims balanced on the middle of his nose. His lips quirk into a fond smile at the sight and he sits on the edge of the desk, watching him until Akio looks up and smiles. "Arthur," he says in a pleasant way that makes him feel warm all over. 

 

"I'm pregnant," he says immediately, figuring there's no reason to dance around the central issue.

 

Snatching the glasses from his face, Akio stands up so quickly that he nearly overturns the chair. He grabs Arthur in a fierce embrace, kissing the side of his face and speaking in Japanese so rapidly Arthur can barely keep up, but he gets the gist: _My Arthur. My beautiful Arthur. I love you._ Akio is thrilled, his attitude so contagious that by the end of their necking, he too is filled with giddy anticipation.

 

Their first child.

 

***

 

It doesn't seem possible, but Akio's paranoia over Arthur's safety grows even more severe once he's pregnant. The alpha refuses to let him ever leave the penthouse because he says it's too dangerous in his state, and while he's probably right, the omega's mood swiftly sours. To soothe his mate, the alpha invites all of his teachers to resume their lesson schedule, so at least Arthur will have company during the long days when Akio is occupied in business meetings. 

 

The Cobbs fuss over him endlessly, Mrs. Cobb cooing and touching the small baby bump that these days juts out from his pelvis, and Dom ridiculously protective — even refusing to allow Arthur to do little things like pull out his own chair and lift not-very-heavy objects. Mrs. Cobb is convinced he's starving and wasting away, and she chases after the kitchen staff, drilling them about his meal plans, while Dom wanders around the penthouse, frowning at all the spots he says they'll need to baby proof before the "little one" arrives. Maybe they're this way because they just had a baby of their own, a little girl named Phillipa, who Mrs. Cobb birthed right before Arthur's arrival in Japan. Arthur watches them overreact about his every life detail and hopes he's even a fraction of the parents they are.

 

Mrs. Narita, on the other hand, shakes her head when she lays eyes on his stomach and tisks: "He knocked you up already, hm?" she says — in English — purely so she can use that crude colloquialism. 

 

Arthur glares at her. "Can you be happy for me, hm?" he responds, in Japanese, because he now considers himself above such profane speech. He's married to Akio Saito, after all. 

 

Dry, wheezing laughter fills the living room as she shuffles forward and gently touches his stomach. "I am happy for you," she says, reverting back to her native tongue, the playful twinkle in her eye vanishing when she looks at his face. Arthur tries to dissect the expression and finds it's one he's never seen on her face before—sadness. "You're just very young."

 

Ariadne brings over a grocery bag filled with ice cream, potato chips, and other unhealthy foods. "This is the one time in your life you can get fat and everyone will still tell you that you look cute," she announces as she tries to cram the Ben & Jerry's containers into the kitchen freezer. 

 

"I don't really like ice cream," Arthur says in a vain attempt to stop her from trying to kill him with sugar.

 

Ariadne shuts the door and eyes him suspiciously. "Well, that's probably just because you haven't tried Chunky Monkey."

 

At the time, Arthur doesn't know what that means, but it later turns out she's right. Banana, fudge chunks, and walnuts are really, really good.

 

***

 

Pregnancy has thrown his body into turmoil. He's only a couple months along, and yet he's so tired some days that he barely gets out of bed. Other times, he's incredibly emotional, sitting alone in the penthouse and weeping like some kind of widower when Akio is, in fact, simply at work. He misses the alpha like a limb when he's not around, and no matter how many times Akio rationally explains that he is now the CEO of Proclus, and every decision demands his attention, Arthur's stupid brain panics whenever he leaves.

 

Everyone must be worried about his sanity because Kayo suddenly starts coming around more, ostensibly to help him organize the penthouse, but Arthur can tell she eventually runs out of legitimate tasks and lingers just to keep an eye on him. The poor woman endures his worst mood swings — when Arthur is yelling that he's a prisoner in his own home one minute, and the next sobbing and begging to see Akio. Kayo knows how to handle Arthur in his hysterical moments by sitting with him, stroking his hair, and promising that his mate will be home soon.

 

But one day Arthur marches into the library where Kayo is taking inventory of their books for some reason (probably another fabricated chore), and he calmly announces: "I want to go see Akio." This time is different because he's not yelling and crying while making the demand, and sensing that she's dealing with a different beast, Kayo climbs off the step stool and walks over to him. Her expression is guarded, but Arthur senses a little nervous trepidation.

 

"You know that is not permitted, Omega Saito." That's what everyone calls him these days to distinguish him from _the_ Mr. Saito.

 

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well, he's my mate, and I'm going to see him," he announces, reaching forward to pluck the security card attached to her lapel with a little alligator clip. Kayo's eyes go saucer wide, but he's already walking from the room, a victorious grin curving his mouth. He can tell Kayo doesn't know the correct protocol in this situation, judging by the frantic look on her face and the panicked _clickclickclick_ of her heels as she hurries after him.

 

"Omega Saito! Wait. _Please_. You can't go to the office," she begs, but never dares to touch or physically stop him because that kind of thing isn't allowed. If Kayo ever hurt Arthur — even some light bruising on his arms — she would lose her job. Probably go to jail.

 

"Don't you think it's weird I'm supposed to sit around all day? That I can never go see him?" he asks, pausing at the elevator and swiping her ID across the scanner. The display screen flashes green and the doors open. When he's standing in the carriage, Arthur actually feels a little bad because Kayo looks like she's on the verge of fainting. She doesn't try to follow him inside, though, maybe thinking the only thing worse than Arthur showing up at Proclus Global is him showing up _with her_ , as though she's accompanying him on this quest. "Don't worry. I'll say I stole if from you," he says as the doors begin to shut, at the last second adding: "I won't let him fire you."

 

He swipes Kayo's card again and hits the top floor button — the level he was never able to visit because he lacked the security clearance. It feels like the elevator ascends a long time, and when the doors slide open again, they reveal a long hallway constructed entirely of thick glass. Arthur wades into the structure cautiously, irrationally believing it might shatter under his feet. The pathway extends over a major Tokyo road, cars zipping along obliviously far below, and leads to the building across the street. Walking along the corridor, he sees Proclus Global's logo (a globe comprised of rigid lines) affixed to the side of the building's facade.

 

Thankfully, he's dressed in one of the suits that has been tailored to fit his pregnant body, so of the many violations he's about to commit, at least begin under-dressed at Akio's place of business won't be one of them. On the other side of the glass hallway is a cavernous room made entirely of dark stained oak — the floors, ceiling, walls, and giant desk all constructed from the same material, giving the appearance of a giant cube without any seams. Behind the desk is a slight woman dressed entirely in white, staring back at him with enormous eyes. _Ah_. She must have immediately recognised him.

 

"Omega Saito. You're not—"

 

"Hello," Arthur interrupts, flashing a bright smile. Maybe he can play the dumb omega card just to get past Proclus's security — until he gets to Akio, who will know better and see through his playacting immediately. "I wanted to surprise Akio at work."

 

"That's—he can't right now. He's in a business meeting," she stammers, eyes flitting nervously towards the corridors that branch out from the greeting area. Like Kayo, she's probably nervous that being seen with Arthur will result in culpability. She reaches for the phone. "I'll have security escort you back home."

 

He drops the smile. "If you do that, I'll tell Akio you were rude to me." The woman's hand pauses on the receiver and she stares back at him in surprise. "I want to see him," he adds, crossing arms atop his swollen stomach.

 

The tip of her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, fingers twitching nervously across the spine of the phone. "I'll see what I can do," she replies hoarsely, picking up the phone and cradling it against her shoulder.

 

***

 

After a brief phone call, the woman escorts him through the labyrinth of hallways, pauses before a door, and knocks. "Come in," Akio replies from inside, and the woman levels him with a pointed look as if to ask _satisfied now?_ and leaves. Arthur takes a deep breath, the smile returning to his face, as he throws open the door.

 

"Hello, love," he chirps pleasantly, hoping to bulldoze over Akio's anger or annoyance with his sunny disposition.

 

Akio does not look amused. He's seated behind a large desk covered with stacks of papers, glasses perched on his nose. " _Arthur_ ," he answers in a warning tone.

 

"I know," he immediately interjects, dropping the act and instead flashing a guilty look. Shutting the door, Arthur walks over to the desk, doing his best to adopt a sheepish, submissive posture. "I just wanted to see you," he confesses, leaning against a corner of the desk that isn't supporting a tower of documents. 

 

The alpha sighs heavily, removing his glasses and folding them to deposit on the desk as he stands slowly and steps towards him. "I'm very busy. You understand that, don't you?" 

 

Arthur finds him terribly distracting (even though Akio looks tired and annoyed) especially when he's standing directly in front of him. He inhales slowly, savouring the smell of his mate, before he pouts: "I miss you."

 

The act doesn't fool Akio, who grips his jaw suddenly and leans in close. Arthur gasps in surprise, but freezes, keenly aware that he's angered an alpha — and even though Akio is _his_ alpha — that doesn't give him special permission to annoy him without consequences. "You sound like a spoiled child," he murmurs, the dangerous undertone of his words contradicted by the gentle graze of his thumb against Arthur's lips. "I give you everything. Are you not happy?"

 

"I am," he mutters, though it's difficult to speak with the alpha holding his jaw. "I just wanted…to see you."

 

Akio releases him and sits down again at the desk. "Do you have any idea how many people rely on me? The entire country's future depends on what I do with this company. And I should drop all of that because you feel melancholy?" Gradually, he's beginning to understand the magnitude of his mistake. However, the hormones coursing through his system won't grant him the option of a graceful exit. Now he's angry that his mate is making him feel silly for experiencing the natural desire to see him. Arthur scowls, which apparently Akio finds amusing because he smirks in response. "I'll give you credit. You somehow got in here. So here I am, little one. What did you want to share with me that was so important you deliberately disobeyed my orders?"

 

The anger he feels towards Akio is a new emotion. He wants to shout that he's his mate — that Akio has no right to speak to him like this, but theirs is a relationship of power imbalance, and doing so simply isn't permitted. The deeper he sulks, the more amused Akio seems to grow, which in turn angers him further. Finally, Arthur drops to his knees in front of Akio and roughly yanks at his belt. The shock on Akio's face greatly pleases him, and before the alpha can formulate words, he's already freed his cock and swallowed it. Fingers furl in his hair, yanking the strands free from the gel's hold, but Akio never tells him to stop (though he does mutter some _interesting_ words in Japanese). Arthur inhales, the alpha's musk instantly filling his nostrils, and the sensation of Akio hardening rapidly against his tongue makes him dizzy with pleasure.

 

He's never done this before, but knows there's not much to it other than being careful not to use his teeth and taking the alpha's length as deeply as he can. He sinks down slowly, tongue hot and wet as it slides along the underside of Akio's dick, and the alpha's thighs tremble when Arthur grips them. Now that he has his mate's undivided attention, he feels proud, and makes sure to maintain eye contact as he bobs up and down. Judging by the sounds Akio is making, he's doing well, and the alpha even seems to like it when the head of his cock hits the back of Arthur's throat and makes him choke a little. 

 

Akio allows him to continue for a long time — probably longer than he should, considering he's the leader of the business community, and what not. The thought that the alpha is delaying extremely important affairs simply because he desires Arthur makes him feel dizzy with lust. At some point, the phone rings, and Akio actually answers it. He hits a button and a woman's voice fills the room: "Mr. Saito. Your 3:30 meeting has begun."

 

Arthur looks up again and makes eye contact with Akio, waiting for the alpha to push him away. Instead, his mate grips the back of his head and pulls him down, coaxing him back into the rhythm. If his mouth wasn't very full, he would have smirked. To his great credit, Akio sounds perfectly composed when he responds: "Push it to four o'clock." He hits a button that disconnects the call and grips the curls at the back of Arthur's skull. "Stand up."

 

Saliva has leaked from his mouth and coated his jaw and neck, so once Akio's erection pops free from his mouth, Arthur wipes at his face and obeys his mate. Akio's fingers are rough as they unfasten Arthur's pants and yank them down, along with his underwear. He gasps when the alpha pushes him face-down across the desk, stacks of papers overturning and falling to the floor. "Wait…stop," he gasps. "Akio, the baby." Arthur might be unexperienced as a parent, but he knows rutting stomach-down on a hard desk can't be good for the fetus.

 

The alpha must agree because he suddenly spins Arthur around, bends down to yank his legs free of the pants entirely and drapes Arthur's legs over his shoulders. "Satisfied now?" he growls, pressing the head of his dick against the omega's wet entrance. "You have my attention," he spits, pushing in so roughly that Arthur cries out. Akio is still angry with him, but also aroused, and Arthur can't summon any shame or regret once the alpha's cock is buried inside him.

 

He grips the edge of the desk above his head as the alpha fucks him, hips clapping against his rear on every stroke, voice forced from him in clipped keens. Akio yanks open his jacket and pushes up Arthur's dress shirt so he can grope at his chest. He hasn't grown breasts yet, but his nipples are very sensitive and he groans loudly when the alpha fondles the area. "Oh God," Arthur whines, reaching down to grip his dick, which he can't even really see below the swell of his stomach. He finds Akio is definitely still cross at him when the alpha pins his wrist to the desk, unwilling to allow Arthur to touch himself.

 

"You will obey me," Akio growls again, adding an extra jolt in his thrusts to emphasize his words. A full-body tremble travels down his spine — another wave rushing from his body, and he can actually see the alpha's pupils dilate when Arthur's pheromones hit him. "I am now late…because my spoiled mate…demands my time," he pants, cock making a lewd wet sound as it pounds into him.

 

He should quit while he's ahead, but Arthur has never seen this side of Akio before, and while part of him is frightened to anger his mate, another part of him feels victorious that he has secured precedence in the alpha's life. "Tell them…you were too busy fucking me," Arthur replies, flushed and sweaty, but so incredibly turned on that he's willing to risk Akio's wrath. Indeed, a part of him enjoys seeing the flash of anger in the alpha's eyes, though it's followed by a wry smirk.

 

As though Akio knows the game he's playing.

 

The fingers are tight on his neck as Akio fucks him hard, right at the end, when he's seconds from coming. It hurts, but it also feels exquisite — the oxygen slowly tapered from his brain. Eyes rolling back in his head, Arthur's spine arches off the desk, and he shouts to herald his orgasm. He's also distantly aware of the frantic edge Akio's rhythm has adopted, the alpha gasping for breath, but he stops short of coming because there's no time for knotting. Instead, he pulls out and immediately begins the process of tidying up. While Arthur is still sprawled out on his desk, practically nude, Akio finds a pack of wet wipes and cleans off his pelvis and stomach before securing his pants and smoothing out the rest of his suit. 

 

Arthur watches him, trying to read the alpha's face. He sees anger, lust, maybe faint amusement. "Get dressed and go home," Akio says before he leaves the office.

 

He lays there a moment longer, breathing heavily, glassy gaze locked on the decorative tin ceiling.

 

***

 

Ten minutes later, he hands a relieved-looking Kayo her ID, and she has enough tact not to ask him why he looks as though he just staggered through a hurricane. Arthur walks directly to the bedroom and passes out for five hours, until the bed dips and he jolts awake. The curtains are open, but it's dark outside, so it takes his eyes a few seconds to adjust.

 

"It's me," Akio whispers, his cool hand touching Arthur's brow.

 

"Oh…hey…" he murmurs, tongue rough and heavy in his mouth.

 

Something cold and wet touches his arm, and when he looks down, Arthur sees Akio is holding out a glass of water. He drains it in three desperate gulps, and the alpha chuckles when he takes the empty glass and sets it aside. "My love, you understand why I work such long hours, yes?"

 

This is a more rational version of the conversation they had in Akio's office hours earlier, and Arthur feels much calmer this time when he nods. Here, in their bedroom, surrounded by a mixture of their scents, he feels safe and comforted. Yes, it seems perfectly reasonable that the head of one of the largest companies in the world would need to devote much of his time to that business. "M'sorry," he whispers. "I just feel crazy lately. With the baby."

 

The alpha's gaze is soft when he touches Arthur's stomach, gently rubbing the swell through the jacket he didn't have the energy to shed. "Everything I do is for you and our child," he says, and Arthur detects only sincerity in his voice. As a reward, he reaches up and pulls Akio closer by the lapel to kiss him.

 

***

 

Such is their routine throughout the first pregnancy. Akio works tirelessly, and Arthur concedes it is necessary for the prosperity of the company. But then his resentment grows over time, and he lashes out in passive-aggressive (sometimes fully aggressive) ways until Akio is forced to devote at least a few hours of time solely to Arthur. Perhaps the alpha is right and he's being childish, but Arthur doesn't care. Akio is his whole world, and a light inside him flickers out whenever the alpha leaves for the day. If he needs to adopt radical strategies to spur their reunion, then so be it.

 

One time, Arthur called the Proclus office and claimed he was ill. That backfired when Akio rushed home and could plainly see he wasn't, so Arthur only tried that once. Other times, he creates little games to gain the alpha's attention. A lover of steaks, Akio had been saving a particularly succulent sirloin in the freezer for dinner—until he phoned Arthur to say he would be, yet again, missing dinner. As punishment, Arthur threw away the steak. The next morning, Akio called him into the kitchen, and stood by the open trash as he pointed accusingly at his beloved steak sitting atop the trash pile. They traded the usual shouts and accusations: Arthur is a child and Akio is negligent, resulting in the normal culmination—Arthur bent over the kitchen counter, robe pushed up around his waist as Akio fucked him from behind.

 

The bigger he grows, the more desperately he needs contact with his mate. At first, Arthur is worried Akio will no longer be attracted to him, but quickly learns the opposite is true. Whenever Akio is home, he's always touching Arthur, nuzzling the curve of his neck, and saying nice things about how wonderful he smells. His breasts, while not large, are now visible through even his thickest suits, and Akio is obsessed with staring at and touching them whenever he has a spare moment. They become something of a weapon for Arthur to utilize whenever he's losing a fight, or Akio is particularly cross at him. He'll invent reasons to shed his shirt, and once Akio sees his chest, they instantly stop battling.

 

Sex is the only time he forgets about his ballooning, aching form. Every other minute of the day, he complains of sore ankles, fat fingers, and difficulty breathing with the added weight on his chest. Kayo is on the frontline of his anxiety, humouring his endless list of grievances, and supplying solutions when she can. For example, at two o'clock every day, a little old lady comes by with a foot bath and pedicure manicuring set, and Arthur shuts up for a little bit while she soaks and massages his feet. His handler is brilliant at distracting Arthur just until Akio appears, and then she seems to vanish into thin air.

 

As the delivery date nears, Akio makes an effort to be around more. He might be the head of Proclus, but this is his first child, and Arthur knows he's feeling some anxiety about the birth. Three weeks before his due date, a team of hospital workers shows up at the penthouse and converts one of the guest suites into a delivery room. Kayo informs him that transferring to a hospital is out of the question (it's too big of a security risk and reporters would be crawling everywhere), so he will be giving birth in their home. Everyone spouts assurances that only the best doctor and nurses will be overseeing everything, and Arthur agrees to the arrangement because, honestly, what choice does he have?

 

He's too big now to do much of anything except lay in bed, Akio spooned behind him, soothingly rubbing his stomach. That's where they are when a contraction racks his body and Arthur cries out in distress. Meticulous planning has led up to this moment, so Akio doesn't hesitate once it's clear his mate has gone into labor. He climbs out of bed and makes a phone call, and then sits on the edge of the bed, holding Arthur's hand until the army of medical professionals arrive.

 

Everything is a blur after that. They move Arthur onto a gurney and wheel it into the guest suite-slash-delivery room, and all the nurses and the doctor are already wearing masks, so he can't tell who is who save for the doctor who is wearing green scrubs instead of the nurse-issued blue ones. One of the nurses, a woman, is telling him the whole area has been disinfected, and there's no need to worry about the baby's health, but Arthur is distracted because he can't see Akio and he's growing anxious. The guest suite is now filled with medical equipment, including monitors, a privacy curtain, and a large machine Arthur doesn't recognize, but thinks might be a baby scale. 

 

Once the nurses disperse to begin their individual check lists, Akio appears beside the bed and Arthur immediately grabs his hand. "My love," Akio murmurs in Japanese, free hand resting comfortingly on Arthur's damp brow, his voice deep and reassuring in a way that makes Arthur instantly forget everything: the late meetings, his vanishment for days at a time. When Akio is with him, everything is perfect, and now that the baby is coming, things will go back to the way they were before — when their universe was housed within the penthouse walls. 

 

"I love you," Arthur answers, eyes flitting warily to the side where one of the nurses is preparing a very large needle: the epidermal. 

 

Akio chuckles when he notes the fear wash across the omega's face. He gently grips his chin and angles Arthur's face so their gazes lock again. "You are still the loveliest omega I have ever seen."

 

Memories of flowers and love notes temporarily distract him, and this time when the tears flood his eyes, they're not strictly from the pain of his contractions. He's studied Akio for a long time, but none of his research prepared him for dealing with sentimentality. Fortunately, he never has to articulate a response because the nurses descend upon him, shooing Akio away, so they can prepare him for the delivery.

 

***

 

One of the nurses, a short, stout woman, tells him later that he should count himself fortunate because the baby came quickly. Within an hour, Arthur dilates, the contractions crash into him regularly likes waves, and before he knows it there's a high-pitched cry filling the room. Arthur has sweat through the paper grown the nurses put him in, and he's temporarily forgotten on the makeshift bed when everyone (the nurses and Akio) hurry over to the cleaning station. "Is he okay? He's all right?" Arthur babbles incoherently to no one, until Akio notices he's asking about the baby and returns to him.

 

"He's healthy, my love. You did very well." Arthur can tell by the way his eyes crinkle above the surgery mask that he's smiling. "Haru is healthy."

 

 _Haru_. The name was Akio's idea, but when he told Arthur it means _sunlight_ , he was instantly sold on the idea. Haru will be a light in their family — a constant reminder of their love and bond.

 

***

 

As predicted, they birth a brilliant baby. Arthur has fulfilled his role as an uber-omega by incubating the perfect child — an alpha, Haru, who at six months is asking for milk and already toilet-trained. He and Kayo dress him in smart little outfits that cost as much as adult designer suits and Arthur cradles him on his hip as he stands behind Akio at news conferences, just so the cameras can film them together and all of the Saito family's enemies can see the future of Proclus has already been secured. Akio has an heir, an alpha who will be fierce and a genius because he is their son.

 

Haru builds elaborate design with wooden blocks, and a child therapist who comes over to observe the boy tells them that he's exhibiting advanced-level reasoning skills. Akio is beside himself with pride, but Arthur is slightly worried their first-born won't be able to socialise with other children his age. "We'll surround him with other brilliant alphas," Akio reassures. "Only the best." For the time being, Haru doesn't demonstrate the withdrawn quality that some geniuses (like Arthur) possess in their early years. He's an incredibly affectionate child, who squeals whenever Akio enters the room and constantly makes grabby hands at Arthur because he wants to be held. And Arthur obliges. Perhaps too much. "You spoil him," Akio says more than a few times. "He needs to be independent."

 

Arthur pretends to listen, but quickly resumes cuddling Haru when Akio again disappears for days at a time on his endless business meetings. Kayo also stops coming around as much because she's accompanying Akio, so it is Haru who fills in as Arthur's companion. A vacant room is converted to a beautiful nursery that is meant to be Haru's sleeping space, but Arthur usually keeps the baby in bed with him. Akio is not pleased the handful of times he comes home in the middle of the night and discovers his mate and son together in their bed. He chases at Arthur's heels, cursing at him in Japanese, as Haru cries in his arms because he knows he's going back to the crib, which he hates.

 

Akio accuses him of deliberately disobeying his orders and disrespecting him, and Arthur denies it, but he knows it's true. He doesn't do it to make Akio look like a fool, but rather he latches onto Haru because he's so desperately lonely. But he can't say he's lonely because then Akio will call him a selfish child, and they'll drop anchor in the same cyclical fight they've had a thousand times before, so instead he lashes out and calls Akio a negligent father. Which is only partly true. Akio loves his son — that much is undeniable — but he lacks the emotional tools needed to show certain kinds of affection. Takao wasn't the type to play rough and tumble with Akio, so now Akio isn't quite sure how to handle a rambunctious, energetic child. Calling him _negligent_ is a low blow, and Arthur knows it. But he often feels petty these days.

 

A couple days of absence becomes a week, and then a couple weeks, and soon Akio regularly disappears for several weeks at a time. He misses the milestones: Haru saying _dada_ , crawling, standing up on his own and unsteadily wobbling towards Arthur. 

 

The resentment becomes a permanent burn. 

 

Arthur isn't sure why he's staying away now — business, to avoid fights, or some other reason. But when Akio returns, things are desperate between them. Akio takes Haru from the master bed and returns him to the nursery. When he returns, he keeps the lights off, and hastily removes Arthur's pyjamas. He wants to want to say no, but greater than that want is his need for Akio. He wants to shout and deny him his right to touch his mate, but then Akio rolls him onto his stomach and shoves inside, and the burn and drag feels so good that he's wet in seconds and begging for the alpha to take him harder.

 

Sometimes, when it's over, Akio stays the whole night and things are as they were before — Arthur cradled in his arms, the alpha's fingertips delicately tracing the length of his spine. In those moments, Arthur is no longer sure he's the thing that is chasing Akio away. Sometimes, they still share breakfast together, and Arthur will pour them fresh orange juice until Akio gently grips his wrist and casts a telling glance his way. Arthur acquiesces when the alpha pulls him onto his lap and pushes aside their robes until he can fuck into him slowly and lazily, Arthur's back arched against his chest, head reclined against his shoulder so they can kiss.

 

In those moments, everything feels normal.

 

Until Akio vanishes again.

 

The second time Arthur becomes pregnant, he has to wait four days until his mate comes home to tell him. Unlike before, there is no celebration. He simply announces it, and Akio looks at him a long time before nodding. What's worse is that Arthur isn't surprised by the lack of enthusiasm.

 

Haru is two and already fluent in both Japanese and English, and when Arthur explains another baby is on the way, he furrows his brow and stares at his father's stomach. "I can play with the baby?" he asks, and Arthur has to pause before answering because he's overcome by a wave of sadness. He knows Haru is a lonely little boy because, contrary to what Akio promised, he isn't surrounded by other bright alpha children. He's alone with Arthur much of the time, and Arthur knows he hungers for companionship.

 

"Of course, Lamby," he whispers, gently stroking back his dark, straight hair that sometimes stands up in little tufts at the back of his head. 

 

Haru is already composing piano songs (he never writes down anything, all the scores live exclusively in his head), and all the experts assure them he is going to be the leader of industry one day, but all Arthur sees is a scared, isolated child.

 

It breaks his heart.

 

***

 

"Daddy, you're big," Haru keenly observes one morning as he sits on the edge of the master bed and watches Arthur get ready for the day. This is their routine: Arthur sits in front of the large vanity mirror, applying some cream under his eyes to reduce the puffy, dark bags that live there lately (too little sleep, too much worry), and Haru watches, short legs swinging off the side of the bed. 

 

He sighs, nodding and gently rubbing his stomach, which juts out dramatically from his frame. It's true. "Yes. Do you know how many months pregnant I am?" he asks, glancing at Haru in the mirror's reflection.

 

Haru looks like a combination of Arthur and Akio, though he definitely possesses Arthur's thoughtful face when he furrows his brow. "Eight," he answers decisively, punctuating the number with a nod.

 

Arthur nods and grins. "Right. A little over eight months. You'll have a brother or sister soon." As per usual when Arthur emphasizes this point, Haru's face lights up and he smiles happily. He's been asking a lot of questions lately about the baby: where it will sleep, what it will look like, when he can start playing with it. Arthur was worried about sibling jealously, but quickly realized they're going to have the opposite problem. They'll have to focus on getting Haru to leave the baby alone so it can sleep. "Are you excited, Lamby?"

 

"Yes!" Haru declares, dissolving into giggles and throwing himself sideways on the bed. Arthur laughs, an identical smile spreading across his face as he watches the child carry on. After catching his breath, Haru rolls onto his back and is quiet for a few moments before he asks. "Will daddy play with us when the baby is here?"

 

His gaze drops quickly to the desk so Haru won't see the flash of pain cross his face. The child is very observant and Arthur knows he can easily detect when his father is in distress, such as when Arthur thinks about Akio and his absence from their lives. Discussing the alpha requires a tricky balancing act. On the one hand, Arthur must express sympathy for Haru when the boy complains about missing his father, but on the other hand, Arthur can't disrespect Akio in front of his son. At this stage in his life, Haru is a mockingbird that repeats almost everything he hears.

 

"Of course. Your daddy is very excited about the baby," Arthur answers. It's not a lie. Akio _is_ very excited about Arthur bearing him another child, even if he doesn't express that joy with his physical presence. He stands and joins Haru on the bed, tickling his son's partially exposed potbelly as he smiles. "I have a feeling you're going to be a great big brother."

 

Haru squeals with laughter, his smile all the light in Arthur's world.

 

***

 

He almost dies during the second delivery.

 

The birth itself is patchwork in Arthur's mind. He remembers his water breaking, the same exact invasion by medical professionals, but this time Haru's voice percolating in the background: "The baby is coming? Daddy! Daddy!" and Akio's voice shushing him, sending him away.

 

Arthur reaches for Haru's little extended hand before everything goes dark. Later, he learns that was the drugs kicking in, but then his blood pressure plummeted and he flat-lined for a few seconds. When he ascends from the darkness, the room isa hive of chaos, but Akio is holding his hand and stroking his brow as he whispers: "My love…my love.." and Arthur can see his face is wet. 

 

He's never seen Akio cry before.

 

For a terrible moment, Arthur thinks the baby is dead, but then a shrill, high-pitched wail fills the room and he bursts out crying. It's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. Akio grips his hand tightly and pulls down the surgical mask so he can kiss Arthur's knuckles. "I thought I lost you," he whispers.

 

A fatigue unlike anything he's ever experienced before crashes into him, but he shakes his head defiantly. "M'here…"

 

"I don't want to lose you."

 

Arthur opens his mouth. He wants to comfort the alpha because that's all he ever wants to do, but the urge to sleep is too overwhelming, so he closes his eyes instead and drops off into a deep slumber.

 

***

 

Takeshi Saito arrives a couple weeks early, a little underweight, but otherwise a perfectly healthy baby. After a few weeks, he packs on weight and the end result is a child much like his older brother, a very energetic, happy boy, who squirms constantly whenever Arthur or Akio are holding him, chubby limbs excitedly pumping as though fighting for his freedom. 

 

Now that the baby is actually here, Haru approaches the arrival of his sibling with wary trepidation. "He's fat," is his first observation when peering down into the bassinet to examine the new addition to their family. 

 

"He's a baby. That's baby fat," Arthur explains, smiling fondly at the brothers' first interaction. Takeshi stares up at his big brother with wide, dark eyes.

 

"Hello," Haru says, and Arthur relaxes minutely. He can tell by the tone of his first-born's voice that he's more curious than hostile. "I'm your brother. When you're not so fat, we can play."

 

Grinning, Arthur looks up and sees Akio watching them, a fond look gleaming in his eyes. For a naive, hopeful moment, Arthur believes that things will change now that Akio has two sons who will need his nurturing and guidance. Surely, there is someone else at Proclus that can take over for Akio — just for a little while, just until the boys aren't so young. If there is mercy and kindness left in the universe, someone will point out Akio should be at home with his family.

 

But that isn't how things in the real world work. Akio is irreplaceable at Proclus, and his constant presence is the foundation of every decision made at the company. A few months after Takeshi's birth, Arthur almost never sees the alpha — not even for their usual midnight romps when, tired and beaten from a long day's work, Akio used to join him in bed. 

 

He wants to believe it has something to do with the fact that he now takes birth control. After the difficult second delivery, a doctor warned Arthur he might die if they tried for anymore children, and then supplied him with a prescription for birth control — no conversation or debate to be had. Perhaps, Arthur reasoned, he smells different now and that's why Akio now seems to lack interest in him. It's a thin veil between his sense of self and reality — flimsy armour for his ego, but he clings to it desperately just so he can perform his other tasks. Such as the public relations events that require dressing up the little ones, donning an expensive suit, and standing just behind Akio when he delivers speeches or makes announcements.

 

Akio may no longer consider him a priority, but the public still wants to see him and believe the Saito clan is strong. In particular, the media falls in love with Takeshi and his fat cheeks. Whenever the baby gurgles or grabs at Arthur's face, the press erupts in smitten titters. Kayo says it's good because, while Akio needs to be feared by other business leaders, he also requires the public's love, and part of that means creating an image of a happy family.

 

Though, that's all it is — an image.

 

Akio seems to be burdened by guilt because, even when they are together, he's withdrawn and oftentimes borderline hostile. He snaps at Arthur over the smallest things, and when Arthur counters with a campaign of sulking, Akio shrouds their home in silence. Then he vanishes, usually for weeks at a time.

 

No one behaves as though this is unusual. The boys are accustomed to the aloofness of their father, and the staff understands duty is always placed before family. Arthur is the last one to catch on, and when he does, feels foolish. His role is to smile in public, bear Akio children (which he has), and now to raise the children, but no where in his contract are words like _affection_ and _love_ written. Those small mercies require time and dedication, and Akio doesn't have the minutes needed to love Arthur. He's not a bad man — he's not withholding affection out of anger or spite. In fact, Akio feels so guilty that he can't give Arthur what he needs that he'd rather stay away from him entirely than see the pain in the omega's eyes.

 

What Akio can't possibly know is that every second he's away is agony for Arthur. Bonding affects both mates, but the experience is much more intense for omegas, who traditionally rely on their alpha mates for survival. Arthur tries to put on a brave face and smiles when the boys play in front of him, but his struggle must be plain on his face because Kayo pulls him aside one day and whispers in confidence: "It gets easier. Every day will be a little better, and then one day it won't hurt anymore."

 

She speaks with such certainty that — had he the energy for it — he would have liked to ask how she knows this, if she's speaking from experience. Loyal Kayo. Arthur tries to imagine her in love, maybe with a handsome alpha, sacrificing everything for the sake of her career that demands all her time and energy. He smiles tight-lipped at her and nods. 

 

 _Maybe one day it won't hurt anymore_.

 

When Haru is five and Takeshi is three, Mrs. Narita and the Cobbs become constant fixtures in the penthouse, mostly to conduct the boys' lessons, but also to keep Arthur company. Mrs. Cobb, in particular, seems especially concerned about his mental health. She catches him one afternoon during a particularly dark day, curled up in bed, crying into a pillow. He's been trying to muffle the pitiful sounds pouring from his throat, but apparently fails. Without uttering a word, she climbs into bed behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist as she shushes him soothingly. "My poor boy…my poor, poor boy," she murmurs.

 

Later, Mrs. Cobb explains she too was desperately sad after the birth of their second child, James. Arthur doesn't have the heart to tell her that he doesn't have postpartum depression. He's almost twenty-two, and the idea of complaining about a broken heart feels petty and selfish. They all have duties that are arduous and taxing, but which they carry out without complaint. Mrs. Cobb worked all nine months of both her pregnancies, right up until her water broke, and Kayo must never sleep judging by the way she's always on call. 

 

Arthur's role is to play the part of the perfect mate, and he must never complain. Omegas everywhere would kill to have his position and status on the social ladder. He has two beautiful children.

 

He's extraordinarily lucky.

 

Yet, sometimes repeating that mantra doesn't work. Arthur's mask slips, and the people who know him intimately catch a glimpse of how he really feels. 

 

One afternoon, Haru is having an uncharacteristic hissy fit. The boy doesn't want to play, or nap, or eat. Every move Arthur makes is wrong, and Mrs. Narita watches all of his failures perched on the edge of the sofa, an expression Arthur has come to think as _aggressive indifference_ balanced on her face. Arthur kneels in front of Haru on the floor, pushing his favorite toy (a little train car) across the carpet. "Look, baby," Arthur says, desperate to distract Haru, who is rapidly approaching a full-blown tantrum.

 

The little boy huffs, stomping around and glaring daggers at Arthur. "Daddy!" he demands, looking around for Akio. Of course, he knows the alpha isn't home, but it's a dig at Arthur. Haru might only be five, but he knows how to articulate his feelings. By asking for Akio, he's really saying: _I don't want you_.

 

It's just one of those moments he'd ordinarily be able to brush off, but that day the words wound Arthur deeply. 

 

He stands up and shouts: "Well, he's not here and I am!"

 

Haru stares up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Arthur never yells, aside from the few private battles he's had with Akio, but he certainly never yells at his children. Without skipping a beat, Mrs. Narita calls from the couch (in perfect English): "Ain't that the truth?"

 

He feels terrible about lashing out later on when Mrs. Narita pours him a cup of tea in the kitchen. Takeshi and Haru are playing in the living room, just out of ear shot. "I'm sorry…" Arthur sighs, cradling the cup between his heads. "That was really inappropriate."

 

She doesn't look impressed. "Don't apologize for something that isn't your fault," she says, sighing heavily as she descends onto the chair across from him. Lately, she's been getting around without her trusty cane, and he's beginning to wonder if she ever needed it at all, or if she uses it as a sympathy prop. "Akio is a good person. I have known him since he was a little boy, but you and he…. are very different."

 

Of course, he's always known that, but when he was younger Arthur believed their bond could overcome any difference between them. Now he's not so sure that's the case. "I still love him," he adds, for some reason feeling it's very important he conveys that point too.

 

Mrs. Narita offers him a rare, weary smile. "He loves you too, my dear."

 

***

 

Akio is exhausted all the time. On the rare instances he does come home and Arthur attempts to speak with him, the alpha answers monosyllabically or ignores him. Even when Arthur pulls out the big guns and comes to bed nude one night, pressing up against him, Akio sighs and makes his excuses. He's too tired. 

 

That kind of rejection hurts most of all because he has always been told omegas are designed to bring alphas pleasure. If he can't even do that right, well….

 

Arthur grows visibly resentful of Akio, shrinking away even when the alpha tries to kiss his cheek before leaving for work. It's a poor calculation because it annoys his mate, and spurs them to fight and launch the same tired accusations at each other. _Negligent_ , countered by _Childish_. He's not sure if things are getting worse on their own, or if they're becoming the caricatures featured in each other's complaints.

 

Whatever the case, he's angry. All the time. And he ends up proving Akio's point when he lashes out in immature ways — denying him little signs of affection and making passive-aggressive remarks about him to Kayo or Mrs. Narita (or to anyone else who will listen, and most importantly, will not repeat those words back to Akio). The longer Akio is gone, the more resentful he becomes, until he reaches full volatility one day and decides he's taking the boys shopping.

 

Akio hates when Arthur takes the boys out of the penthouse, even if it's for a relatively safe affair like a business function. The alpha is hyper-paranoid when it comes to his family's safety, and demands Arthur bring the two enormous security guards constantly stationed by the main entrance to the building with him if he ever needs to go anywhere. It's Arthur's idea of a compromise that he brings the guards with him when he leaves the penthouse, cradling Takeshi with one arm, the other hand clutching Haru's as the little boy hurries along to keep up. 

 

He doesn't tell anyone he's leaving, primarily because he doesn't need a security code to ride the elevator down to the main floor, but also because this is his one small act of rebellion. If he wants to take his sons shopping, he's going to, Akio be damned.

 

They're only in the town car for two minutes when his cell phone rings.

 

"Omega Saito. Where are you?" Kayo's frantic voice fills his ear.

 

"It's okay. We're just going shopping. The guards are with me," he says, flashing an encouraging smile at Haru, who smiles back excitedly at him. The boys rarely get to leave the penthouse, so this is a big event for them. Haru's face is practically pressed to the window, eyes huge as he gazes out at the cityscape.

 

"But Mr. Saito—He won't—You're not permitted to—" she sputters.

 

"Okay, we'll see you soon," Arthur chirps, hanging up the phone quickly before Kayo can get another word in.

 

Even though he chooses a very exclusive store that's virtually empty when they arrive, Arthur and the babies still cause a commotion when they get out of the car. Passersby on the sidewalk recognize them immediately, stop dead in their tracks, and talk rapidly as they film and snap photos with their phones. They're only outside about fifteen seconds — just long enough for Arthur to gather up Takeshi and grab Haru's hand to pull them into the store, the guards a tight perimeter around them, but he knows they're going to be everywhere on social media. No doubt, photos of them out and about shopping are already flooding Twitter. They have, maybe, fifteen minutes before Akio learns of their little outing and shows up to the store with a face like thunder.

 

For some reason, the idea of angering Akio always gives him a thrill, perhaps because it is only in moments of exasperation when Akio touches him — their rage oftentimes spilling over the edges into acts of passion.

 

It's a move of desperation, and he knows it, but Arthur can't stop himself. One way or another, he will secure Akio Saito's attention.

 

The two women running the store freeze in a mix of surprise and terror when they see them enter. Whatever they were braced for today, clearly serving the family of the most powerful man in Japan wasn't at the top of their itinerary. It's a small, sweet shop comprised of baby clothes ranging from infant to about seven-years-old. The older of the two rushes forward and bows to him, and Arthur bows in return, though not as deeply. "We are so honoured to have you visit our store, sir," she gushes, smiling and waving at the boys.

 

"Please, don't feel you have to fuss. I just want to buy some things for the boys," Arthur says.

 

"Nonsense!" she crows. "We're so thrilled to have you here. What would you like to try on?" she asks, aiming the question at Haru.

 

He scrunches up his face thoughtfully for a second before replying: "Overalls!" 

 

Arthur smiles apologetically. "He must have seen a show, or something, but he's obsessed with overalls lately."

 

"Is that right?" the woman asks, bracing hands on knees so she can stoop over slightly and speak directly to Haru. "Then let's find you some overalls, hm?"

 

Arthur smiles as he watches the woman take Haru by the hand and guide him over to a rack of clothing. The older owner has streaks of grey lining her dark hair, but Arthur can tell she was must have been quite pretty in her youth. The younger of the pair remains behind the counter, smiling politely at Arthur when he glances over to the cash register. Now that he takes the time to look between the women, he thinks maybe they're related — most likely mother and daughter. 

 

The guards are positioned by the door, one man on each side, silent and intimidating with all their severity and girth. On the other side of the glass windows is a growing crowd of curious onlookers, some of them still pointing their phones at the store, no doubt filming Arthur and the children shopping inside. For the first time, dread creeps up his spine when he sees more and more people arrive, blocking the exit. But the guards seem calm, and just when he's beginning to really worry, Takeshi grabs at the side of his face, attempting to engage in his favorite activity — yanking Arthur's hair free from the gel he uses to tame his wild waves. "No, no, baby," Arthur gently chastises, gripping the baby's wrist and pretending to eat his hand. Takeshi giggles happily in response, lightly batting at Arthur's mouth.

 

Outside, the flash of a camera goes off. Then another.

 

One of the guards looks over his shoulder and casts a warning glare outside. A young, skinny man quickly pockets his phone in response.

 

"Do you like trains?" the older woman asks Haru, which is sort of like asking fish if they like water.

 

"Yes!" the little boy exclaims excitedly, eyes growing to the size of small planets when the woman shows him a pair of small overalls with a picture of a train on the front. "Daddy, look!" he squeals.

 

Arthur grins. "I guess we'll be getting those," he chuckles. "I'll also need a couple outfits for him," he adds, nodding to Takeshi who is now busily trying to shove the collar of Arthur's shirt into his mouth.

 

"No problem," the younger woman says, moving from around the counter to the other side of the store where the smaller sizes are located.

 

Suddenly, there's a commotion by the entrance. A man is trying to enter the store, but the guards push him back outside and lock the door. Both women freeze and look to Arthur, who smiles nervously and apologetically. "Sorry about that." For the first time, he's beginning to fully understand why Akio has been so paranoid about allowing him to leave the penthouse. But the guards have everything under control, he reminds himself.

 

"No need to apologize," the younger woman graciously replies, then proceeds to show him their wide selection of clothing for three-year-olds.

 

Ultimately, Arthur leaves the shop with four bags — the whole damage running ¥102,490, or about $1,000 — reminding himself the whole time that Akio makes that much money during the length of a sneeze so as to avoid experiencing any unnecessary guilt. He thanks the women again, and then hands the guards the bags so he can cradle Takeshi and hold Haru's hand. Now comes the tricky part. The crowd is still outside, but it's grown twice as large, pouring out across the street and surrounding their car. Mostly, Arthur sees smiling faces, mouths flapping excitedly, and he knows they just want to see the children, but Haru looks unnerved at the sight of all these strangers.

 

"They're happy to see you," Arthur says, smiling down at him. "You should wave."

 

So Haru does. He smiles and waves and the crowd outside goes nuts, a hundred flashes almost simultaneously going off to capture the moment. Takeshi is much more fearful, hiding his face against Arthur's shoulders so he doesn't have to see all the unfamiliar faces.

 

The guards push the door open, and the full cacophony of noise crashes in. Haru's little hand grips Arthur's fingers fiercely when the barrier between them and the people vanishes and Arthur tugs him close, keeping him partially in front of him so he can protect him. "Okay, here we go," he says, keeping his tone light so the children don't feed off his nervousness. The guards are less gentle, plowing a path as they shove people out of the way, gruffly commanding people to _move_ because Omega Saito is trying to walk. For the most part, people move right away, but some are slow to obey and suffer the consequences. Arthur sees the guard elbow one man right in the chest and he stumbles backwards, nearly falling, but someone catches him at the last second. Someone else presses against Arthur's back, but he doesn't want to look at who it is because he's too busy tightly gripping Haru and Takeshi, gaze fixated on their car. _They just have to make it to the car._

 

"Move!" a guard barks, throwing another man out of the way. This time, he falls, and from somewhere on the ground comes a cry when the crowd surges forth and he's nearly trampled. A young woman pulls him to his feet. 

 

it occurs to Arthur that the crowd is only seconds away from a full-on stampede, if only to escape the crushing wave of bodies pushing from the back. "Daddy!" Haru cries in alarm, understandable given his extra terrifying perspective from the ground. 

 

"It's okay. We're okay," Arthur soothes, but his weak assurance is drowned out by the sea of voices.

 

They finally make it to the car, and the guards pile the bags into the trunk, but even then the crowd continues to surge forth, following them as people shout questions and snap photos. Arthur remembers his training, smiling politely even as his heart hammers inside his chest. A guard throws open the door and Arthur quickly puts Takeshi inside. He's about to do the same with Haru, but suddenly a tall, lanky man surges force, shouting, "Omega Saito! Omega Saito" and grabs his wrist, pulling him into the crowd.

 

Arthur panics when he feels Haru's hand slip out of his grasp. He tries to remember his training — what Ariadne would do in this situation — but they never drilled what to do if one is dragged into a teeming crowd. Instead, Arthur compartmentalises. He focuses on what he knows. Gripping the man's wrist, he breaks the grip from his wrist and throws an elbow into his stomach. Instantly, the man releases him and hunches over with a loud groan. "Haru!" he cries, and the guards tear people away as they grab him, pulling until he's by the car again. But in their preoccupation with saving Arthur, they lose sight of Haru. Arthur immediately drops the fake smiling act and shouts his son's name at the top of his lungs. Many in the crowd also begin to look around, apparently confused by the child's sudden disappearance. "Haru! Haru!" Arthur screams, gaze desperately combing the crowd, but there are too many people and Haru is so small. He wonders if the child got dragged into the crowd and is being crushed under foot.

 

One of the guards swiftly darts away from the car, and for several seconds Arthur can't make sense of what's happening until he sees the target the man is charging towards. In the distance, a man is carrying a small, brown bundle in his arms, but when the guard grabs him, Arthur sees the bundle is Haru wrapped in a blanket. The guard sets down the boy on the sidewalk and proceeds to knock out the kidnapper with one clean punch. He sprints down the walkway and grabs the boy as soon as he's close enough. "Oh my God," he sobs, clutching the crying child to his chest. "Haru, baby."

 

"We have to move. We have to go right now," the guard gasps, breathless. Arthur has never heard him speak before, but the man sounds terrified, probably fearing for his life once Akio hears about what happened.

 

Arthur can't speak. He simply nods, holds Haru tightly, and allows the guard to navigate them back to the car. He climbs inside, a guard closing the door behind him, and they speed off. Haru is still terrified, crying even as Arthur holds him, which in turn frightens Takeshi. The whole ride home, he keeps them cradled against his sides.

 

Akio is going to be furious.

 

***

 

The three of them sit stoically in the living room, awaiting their fates. One of the guards explains to Arthur that those men are kidnappers, and this is their basic modus operandi — create a diversion, then grab one of the children to hold for ransom. The Saitos have dealt with the threat of kidnappings for generations, hence Akio's paranoia about his family leaving the secure penthouse. Arthur imagines a young boy, Akio, playing in blissful naivete on a playground and feels sick.

 

He endangered his sons — and why? — because he felt petty and weak?

 

They wait in silence, both boys asleep in their respective bedrooms. Arthur sat with both of them a long time once they returned home, to comfort, but also explain what happened. Takeshi seems confused, but relieved his big brother is all right. Haru is much more traumatized by the events, and Arthur fully expects him to have nightmares for a long time about the incident. The guards relayed the news to Kayo, who has informed Akio, and they expect him home any second.

 

"I phoned the police and gave descriptions of the men. They've been picked up," a guard, the man who saved Haru, explains.

 

Arthur nods slowly and looks up at him. "I'll tell Akio you saved our son."

 

It's strange to see the thin smile curve his face, since Arthur's never seen the guards wear any other expression than icy indifference. "Thank you, but this is my last day protecting you, Omega Saito."

 

His prediction proves prophetic. 

 

Akio listens in frigid silence as Arthur stammers through an explanation of what happened. Out of respect, Arthur stands when he addresses him, and though his mate is several inches taller than him, he might as well be a God examining Arthur with a magnifying glass. Akio is still staring by the end of his story, and Arthur is at a loss of what else he can do — call himself stupid? Retire to the bedroom to engage in self-flagellation? He concludes in a choked whisper: "I'm so, so sorry—" 

 

"You're both fired," Akio interrupts, casting an indifferent glance towards the guards.

 

Arthur's stomach twists into a giant knot. "But they saved—"

 

"They allowed strangers to take my son and endanger my mate. Get out." The guards obey in silence, and Arthur stares sullenly at their backs as they leave, knowing he'll never see them again — never be able to properly thank them for what they've done. He feels sick with guilt, and knows he's seconds away from a fresh round of tears, but Arthur doesn't want to allow himself that weakness. He doesn't deserve the cathartic purge. "Satisfied?" Akio asks. "Your little tantrum nearly got our son kidnapped, and cost those men their jobs. And they should count themselves lucky that's all they lost."

 

He forces himself to meet Akio's gaze. "I'm sorry," he repeats.

 

The alpha looks disgusted with him, his body language riddled with frustration and anger, hands on hips. "Are you? I have never in my life seen someone behave so petulantly. You act like a spoiled brat."

 

He squashes the immediate impulse to lash out — to scream and hurl cruel words, and to remind Akio that he only behaves so _petulantly_ because his _neglectful_ mate leaves him for weeks at a time. But now is not the time to pick at old wounds. Arthur nods slowly, taking his medicine, and sucks in a deep breath before speaking: "You're right. I apologize." His acquiescence seems to temporarily stun Akio, who stares silently at him, as if waiting for the additional tantrum. "I'm going to check on the boys," Arthur adds, walking towards the hallway.

 

Akio grabs him gently by the arm and frowns when he sees the bruising on Arthur's wrist, where the stranger grabbed and pulled him into the crowd. "Are you hurt?" Akio asks, which startles Arthur because the alpha actually sounds like he cares about the answer. They haven't spoken in weeks, let alone exchanged tender words, so Arthur simply gazes up at him for a moment, unable to think of a reply. He's not hurt physically, no, but he misses Akio. However, he knows the man isn't asking about his well-being in the abstract.

 

"I'm fine," he whispers, flashing a slight smile. 

 

When Akio releases him, he slips from the room.

 

***

 

He spends the night curled up in Haru's small bed, cradling the boy to his chest. Arthur can't sleep anyway, and he wants to see his son's face, but he also wants to be there when the child startles awake from a nightmare and immediately clutches him. This happens three times during the night. Arthur barely sleeps, instead opting to stroke Haru's hair and watch his face, which is why he notices when Akio appears in the bedroom door just before sunrise.

 

They lock gazes, neither of them speaking, and the alpha eventually leaves the doorway. 

 

The boys sleep late the next day, and Arthur lets them because he figures the thing they need the most right now is lots of rest. He briefly visits the master bedroom to change into fresh clothing (trousers and a sweater) before he heads for the kitchen. He's in desperate need of coffee, but nearing the living room, he hears Akio speaking with someone. At first, Arthur assumes it must be the police, perhaps taking a report on the attempted kidnapping, until he walks into the living room and sees a man, not a police officer, standing in front of Akio.

 

He's white, a bit shorter than Akio, but broad along the shoulders. As soon as Arthur appears in the living room, Akio addresses him: "Ah, good. You're awake. My love, I'd like you to meet Mr. Eames. He's your new bodyguard."

 

Arthur blinks and stares at Akio, then this _Mr. Eames_. This is…unexpected, to say the least. His previous guards were both huge men — imposing mountains that clearly warned potentially hostile foes that they should not trifle with him. But Mr. Eames, other than being built a bit like a rugby player, doesn't seem that visibly threatening. The man smiles politely and extends a hand — another surprise because his old guards never touched him, or emoted in any way. Arthur looks to Akio for permission, and when the alpha nods, he accepts the gesture. They shake in greeting as Arthur subtly inhales. The man is definitely an alpha, which he would expect from a man meant to guard his family with brute strength. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Eames. Will it just be you on my personal security detail?" 

 

Mr. Eames's back is aimed at Akio, so his mate doesn't see the man smirk at him, and Arthur is too surprised to call him out on it. Ordinarily, his staff and security team are either mute or deferential. Arthur doesn't remember the last person who dared to smirk at him, but it was probably Mrs. Narita. "Just me. Hope that meets your standards," he says, eyes shining in amusement.

 

Arthur opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word out, Akio takes over the conversation. "Mr. Eames has a sterling resume, Arthur. He comes very highly recommended." He takes a step forward and places a hand on the other alpha's shoulder. "Let us finish your employment paperwork in my office."

 

As the men walk towards the lift, his gaze lingers on the space between Mr. Eames's swaggering shoulders.

 

***

 

He sleeps for a long time, alone, because Akio has vanished again to tend to no doubt extremely important matters. Arthur knows this is the reason he's not in the master bed at night, and still his mate's absence leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Though he would never admit it to him, Arthur can't stop thinking about the attempted kidnapping. He can still hear the crowd's excited drone, chest tightening when he remembers the grip on his wrist — the surge of terror when he lost sight of Haru.

 

So instead of replaying events in his head, he sleeps and sleeps.

 

Upon waking, Arthur stares in confusion at the bedside clock for a long time, unable to quite make sense of what he sees. The clock indicates he's been asleep for eighteen hours, but that's impossible because the boys would have woken him for breakfast. Unless…

 

Arthur scrambles out of bed, throws on a robe, and runs out into the hall. Assuming the worst, he darts down the corridor, glancing into each room to see if the boys are playing. He knows it's impossible that the kidnappers somehow came back (they're in prison), and eluded security (the most high-tech in all of Japan), but Arthur can't stop the dread from creeping up his spine. Something terrible has happened. He knows it. He knows it…

 

He freezes at the end of the hallway.

 

In the living room, Mr. Eames is seated on the floor, playing with Haru. The boy's favorite train set is laid out before them, Haru on hands and knees, pushing a car around the tracks as he makes train noises. Takeshi is there too, sitting on a blanket as he watches his big brother. Mr. Eames is holding a little Lego man, who he tries to put on the train. Haru shakes his head and knocks off the toy. "You can't board there," he explains rationally, because the train hasn't pulled into the station.

 

"Oh, terribly sorry," Mr. Eames replies.

 

"It's okay," Haru sighs, wise and patient like an experienced teacher. "Wait until the train is at the platform." He pushes the train up the track, and when it's in front of the platform, he calls: "All aboard!"

 

Mr. Eames looks at him. "Now?" The boy nods and he walks the Lego man onto the train. "Much appreciated."

 

Arthur smiles and covers his mouth. He's so incredibly relieved the boys are safe, but he hadn't expected to find them playing with their new bodyguard. It's highly unorthodox for an employee to mingle with the Saito family like this, and words like _unprofessional_ and _insubordinate_ rotate in his head. Arthur's training has taught him that there is a permanent wall between the personal and professional, and it's to the detriment of all when the two mingle. And yet he finds himself unwilling to shatter the sweetly domestic moment. Haru doesn't look frightened or anxious. Actually, he looks quite normal — having fun, even. 

 

Akio is oftentimes too busy, or too committed to rigid formality, to play with the boys like this. At first, Arthur thought perhaps it was a cultural difference between east and west, but he's been outside the penthouse enough times to have seen Japanese fathers playing with their children in the park, or pushing their prams along the sidewalks, to know that Akio's aloofness isn't cultural. It's just who his mate is.

 

He watches in silence for a few more moments until Haru apparently tires of the playing and announces: "I'm bored." He says those words frequently, and Arthur has been told by child psychologists it's because he's so intelligent, and smart kids bore quickly.

 

Mr. Eames nods sympathetically. "Want to see a magic trick?"

 

Haru's eyes immediately light up. His son loves magic, probably because the tricks are something to contemplate beyond the boundaries of his genius. For Haru, magic tricks are like riddles for him to figure out. "Yes!" he declares, smiling broadly, dimples on full display.

 

Arthur knows he should speak to let his presence be known. Though Akio approves of Mr. Eames, Arthur barely knows him, an alpha sitting within arm's reach of his son. But for some reason he doesn't quite understand, he trusts the man. So he continues to silently watch as the alpha reaches towards him and seemingly pulls a toy train car from behind Haru's ear. It's an old sleight of hand trick that Arthur has to admit is executed perfectly and actually gives the illusion that the car materialises from thin air. 

 

The mirage also seems to impress Haru whose eyes widen and mouth drops open when he sees the car in Mr. Eames's hand. "That was up your sleeve," he accuses, already trying to figure out the trick.

 

The alpha shakes his head. "Nope. M'magic, mate."

 

"Nuh-uh. You hid it," Haru says, but he's smiling giddily. "Show me how you did it!"

 

Arthur redistributes his weight onto his other foot, and when he does, a floorboard creaks, which is when Mr. Eames looks over and sees him. "Some other time," he says to Haru, winking and standing up. "Good morning," he calls, nodding to Arthur. 

 

"Daddy!" Haru interrupts. "We're playing."

 

"Dadada!" Takeshi chants excitedly the second he lays eyes on Arthur.

 

Now that all are aware of his presence, Arthur descends the steps into the sunken living room and smiles as he immediately approaches the boys and stoops down to scoop up Takeshi into his arms. "Hello, my loves. Are you having fun?"

 

"Yes! But Eames is a liar," Haru says lightly, possibly not fully understanding the weight of that accusation.

 

Fortunately, it doesn't seem to phase the alpha, who smirks in response. "Magic isn't the same as lying, mate. And I told you, I'll show you how I did it later." He cracks his knuckles, offering Arthur what might be an apologetic grin. "How are you feeling? Sorry I didn't wake you. Figured you needed to rest."

 

The back of Arthur's neck warms a bit at his familiar tone, and he has to bite back the reflex to tell Mr. Eames it wouldn't have been _appropriate_ to wake him even if he'd wanted to. How would he have done that anyway? Come into Arthur's room? Walked over to the bed? Touched him while he was asleep? He's going to need to speak with his new bodyguard about things like respect and proper decorum, just as Arthur had to learn the proper way to conduct himself and handle social situations, but that can wait for later.

 

"I feel better, thank you," he responds, smiling lightly when Takeshia immediately begins to tug at the collar of his robe. "Did you two eat?"

 

"Yup! I got bacon and eggs and the food man gave me extra bacon," Haru replies.

 

" _Chef_ , baby," Arthur corrects.

 

"Chef," Haru replies thoughtfully, in the tone that means he's filing the information away for later. Arthur will never have to remind him of the correct word again. Haru only needs to be told things once and he remembers them forever.

 

"Do you want me to ring for him to make you something?" Mr. Eames asks.

 

The offer surprises him. Ordinarily, Arthur emerges from bed and meals are waiting for him because the chef adheres to the standard schedule, or Kayo has had something specially prepared for him. Arthur is well-cared for, but these things just sort of happen around him like the rotation of the planets. No one asks him what he wants. They just provide, provide, provide. It dawns on him that this is different — asking him if he needs something. "Uh…yes, thank you."

 

Mr. Eames nods and walks into the kitchen to call the chef, and Arthur watches him leave, only eventually breaking from his daze when Haru yanks at his pyjama bottoms and announces he has to use the bathroom.

 

***

 

Akio has taken to calling the penthouse to check in on Arthur and the children, as opposed to gracing them with his presence during the highly unlikely event of a long lunch break. Like most changes in his life, Arthur weathers this with quiet hostility. He takes the calls, but his answers are chilly and mostly monosyllabic. Akio doesn't seem to notice.

 

"You find Mr. Eames acceptable?" he asks during one of their calls.

 

"Yes," Arthur answers, and he's going to leave it at that, but a small, niggling part of his brain is still Akio's devoted mate, and reminds that he should be honest with him. "He's not…like the previous guards."

 

"No," Akio agrees, chuckling. "He's English. They do things differently in England. But I assure you, he's the best. An absolutely sterling record."

 

Arthur is quiet a few beats before asking: "And you're sure we just need one guard?"

 

He still thinks about the attempted kidnapping all the time — that bold act attempted when two huge men were protecting his family. Mr. Eames is build broadly, but he's not much taller than Arthur, and it's difficult to reconcile the imagine of a man who plays with Haru and his toy trains with the necessary requirements of a fierce protector.

 

It sounds like Akio chuckles again when he answers: "I'm sure."

 

Whatever that means.

 

Kayo's obligations with Proclus keep her occupied these days, and apparently business is booming because the Cobbs also rarely visit anymore. As such, Mr. Eames becomes the children's default playmate, and the alpha is always game to drop whatever he's doing to humour Haru's vast demands. Arthur would even go as far to say that Haru adores the alpha, calling him _Magic Man_ , not out of ignorance, but affection. 

 

Mr. Eames must have eventually taught him those tricks because sometimes Arthur is sitting with Haru and the boy pretends to pull a yen coin from behind his ear. "Very good, Lamby," Arthur smiles, and every once in a while he'll look over and see a pleased expression on the alpha's face.

 

***

 

In the summer, Arthur takes his tea and meals out on the terrace so he can get some sun and (relatively speaking) fresh air. One day, he walks through the door and Mr. Eames is outside, smoking. He immediately frowns and the alpha self-consciously butts out the cigarette and drops the remains in the pocket of his sweater.

 

Arthur doesn't know where to begin. First, he shouldn't be smoking. It's unhealthy and Haru might see and mimic the behavior, as he seems to with most of the alpha's mannerisms. Actually, it's been making him quite nervous. He doesn't know how Akio will respond if he decides to come home one day and sees his first-born swaggering about affecting a British accent. Second, Mr. Eames has taken to wearing whatever he pleases, as opposed to his issued black blazer, undershirt, and slacks. Worse, Mr. Eames has terrible sartorial tastes, and the man seems to be drawn to hideous patterns and pastels that burn Arthur's retinas. 

 

"You shouldn't smoke," Arthur says, then with a scowl adds: "Where's your uniform?"

 

Eames smirks. He has a habit of doing that — smirking, grinning, being disrespectful without actually saying anything that Arthur could write down and present to Akio later to get the alpha in a heap of trouble. If Arthur says _he smiles at me too much_ , he'll sound crazy. Akio is an alpha, and as such given to bouts of jealousy, but he also thinks Arthur has a habit of being immature and irrational. He doesn't want to play into that stereotype. 

 

"Sorry about that," he says, shrugging. "Bad habit." 

 

He deliberately ignores the uniform question. 

 

Arthur sighs and walks over to a chair so he can set down his tea cup and sit. When he looks up again, the alpha is watching him curiously. "Where are the boys?" he asks, annoyed.

 

"Playing," Mr. Eames answers immediately. "How old are you?"

 

Arthur's face burns and he spits angrily: "None of your business." He's never had to scold any staff members like this before, and most frustratingly Mr. Eames doesn't seem bothered or ashamed he's upset his employer's mate. 

 

"You just look young," he says, reclining back against the bannister. "I bet it's boring hanging out all day around here. Let me know if you need anything and I can get it for you."

 

 Arthur stares at him. "What do you mean by that?"

 

The smirk returns when the man waves his hand through the air. "I'm just saying, is all. Like that little magic set I got Haru. If you need some entertainment, let me know."

 

The tea is rapidly cooling, but he's completely forgotten about it because Arthur can't actually believe they're having this conversation. "My son is five. I don't want a magic kit."

 

Mr. Eames bursts out laughing, clapping his hands together as though Arthur has said something to greatly delight him. "Oh my days. I don't mean that, do I? I'm just saying, is all…" 

 

There's tenseness beneath his smile now, as though the alpha has just realized he's walking on thin ice. Arms fold across his chest, legs crossed in front of him, and his gaze drops to the winged tips of his shoes.

 

Arthur's eyes narrow. "What did you do before this job?"

 

Eames smirks. "Now who's asking personal questions?"

 

"Answer me," Arthur snaps, all the patience vanished from his voice.

 

The alpha's shoulders tense and he winces, his full lips sloping downward in a frown as he answers: "I worked security."

 

"For whom?"

 

" _People_ ," he growls, uncrossing his arms and legs and taking a step towards Arthur. "You don't like me being here? Take it up with your husband. He seems pleased with my work."

 

"I'm just trying to understand our situation," Arthur says, reclining slightly and tilting his chin up so he can see the alpha as he looms nearby. He's not afraid. Any alpha would have to be suicidal to attack Akio's omega, and besides, all the time he's been observing Mr. Eames, the man has never indicated he's unpredictable or violent. "I used to have two guards, my son is almost taken, and then you come along. I'm sure you understand my concerns. You're only one man."

 

The alpha runs his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. Arthur can tell he's annoyed, judging by his body language. "All right. I worked for a family, watched their kid. One day, this bloke comes along and takes the kid. I got him back. Satisfied?"

 

"How?" he asks, carefully watching the man's face. Too many expressions cross his visage to accurately count, though he sees anger and wariness among the others, and then something else right before he speaks — fear.

 

"I found the bloke and I killed him," he answers quietly.

 

Arthur knows ugliness exists in the world. He's been exposed to crude reality from an early age when his parents sold him off in order to save their farm, and his most recent reminder came when a man, some total stranger, tried to destroy his family. But still, hearing the truth about what brought Mr. Eames to their doorstep — and his specific set of skills that made him such an appealing acquisition for Akio — makes him feel sick.

 

Fortunately, he doesn't have to respond because at that moment Haru's voice carries from inside: "Daddy!"

 

Without uttering another word, Arthur climbs to his feet and walks back into the penthouse.

 

***

 

He tries to avoid being alone with Mr. Eames after that. Although he understands the situation a little better now — and recognizes the necessity of having around a man capable of brute strength to guard their family — that doesn't mean he wants to socialise with a man who doesn't understand the boundaries of social norms. Arthur busies himself with his usual routines: playing with the boys and arranging their lessons via Kayo. He also plays the piano, but stops doing that much following an incident in which he realized Mr. Eames had been watching him play from a distance. He stopped, stood up from the bench, and saw the man lingering a few feet away. _You're quite good_ , the alpha noted thoughtfully.

 

The compliment made Arthur feel strange, so he doesn't play when Mr. Eames is around anymore.

 

Instead, he plays with Haru and Takeshi, their usual gathering spot being Haru's room because the eldest boy has all the good toys. They're gathered there one afternoon when Haru announces he wants the "Magic Man," to come play too. 

 

"Mr. Eames, Lamby," Arthur corrects, and Haru ignores him as per usual. Arthur watches his son for a few moments and asks: "You like him a lot, huh?"

 

Haru nods firmly. "Mhm. He's fun and nice."

 

Arthur quietly digests his son's assessment. Many words pop into his brain when he thinks of Mr. Eames, but _nice_ and _fun_ are not among them. However, he knows this might be because he hasn't greeted Mr. Eames's involvement in their lives with quite as much open-mindedness and enthusiasm as Haru.

 

"Well, we'll have to make sure you get to play with him today, right?" he asks and smiles faintly, reaching forward to brush a wave behind Haru's ear. 

 

His son grins happily and nods.

 

***

 

The boys see more of Mr. Eames than they do their own father, and Arthur begins to notice a marked difference in their response to Akio's presence and when they get to play with the other alpha. Haru is excited and gleeful when he plays with Mr. Eames — squealing with laughter, rolling around, and behaving like a little kid, as he should. Conversely, he's withdrawn around his father, quiet and respectful and all the things Akio has taught him to be. 

 

Takeshi is younger, but even he seems to appreciate Mr. Eames's animated face and flamboyant style. He smiles and giggles as the alpha carries on, but in Akio's presence his eyes are wide and curious, as if the younger boy is trying to remember who, exactly, this man is.

 

As for Arthur, he's still not quite sure how to feel. He loves Akio, and feels devoted to him still, but the alpha's time away has lessened the strength of their bond. Kayo's words still resonate with him: _It gets easier. Every day will be a little better, and then one day it won't hurt anymore_. Arthur is finally beginning to understand the meaning behind her advice. Their separation still causes him pain, but each day the situation becomes more tolerable, and now Arthur has decided to live for his children. 

 

He wonders if this happens to many alpha/omega mates — if, over time, their bond diminishes. Arthur was taught that bonding is a permanent, unbreakable force, but it seems that's not the case. Bonds can be destroyed with slow suffocation. 

 

Their link isn't completely severed, however. During his rare visits, Akio sometimes touches him — an idle hand grazing his cheek or a kiss to the brow — and Arthur is lost. He closes his eyes and breathes in the alpha's familiar, comforting scent. In those moments, he's eighteen again, and stupidly in love. But then Akio leaves and the spell is broken. He tries to remember that's all it is: pheromones, hormones, and shadow. It's like one of Mr. Eames's magic tricks. What he feels around Akio isn't real. Not anymore.

 

He tries to remember that, anyway. Arthur isn't always successful, but thankfully Akio doesn't ask him to go to bed anymore. If he did ask, Arthur would go, and then he'd have to work from scratch soothing his wounds when the alpha inevitably disappears again. It hurts a little — knowing the man doesn't desire him that way anymore. Sometimes, he wonders if it's because he can no longer bear children, or perhaps Akio is simply tired of him now. When he looks at himself in the mirror, Arthur thinks it can't be because he's a little older now. He's still in his early twenties and looks more or less the same. 

 

More often, he tries not to think about these things at all. Worrying about his sex life feels petty and superficial, and Arthur doesn't want to be those things, so he buries the worry and anxiety and moves on. 

 

***

 

Dom unexpectedly stops by one day. Arthur learns of his arrival when he suddenly hears voices in the hallway.

 

"Who're you, mate?"

 

"What—I'm here to see Omega Saito."

 

"He expecting you?"

 

"….Who are _you_?"

 

Arthur springs off the couch and hurries down the corridor. "Mr. Eames, it's all right. Dom is a friend," he explains quickly before anything mad, like a fight, breaks out. Though he's never seen the alpha's physical prowess displayed, Arthur doesn't doubt he'd throw down in a second to protect him or the boys. "Mr. Eames is our new bodyguard," Arthur explains, a little confused because he had assumed Akio would have shared that bit of news with everyone at Proclus. But then again, his husband has a rather one-track mind that accommodates business and little else.

 

Dom looks relieved to see him. "I wanted to check up on you," he says, casting a wary glance at the other alpha.

 

Arthur smiles, touched his old teacher still thinks of him. "I'm doing very well." The alpha nods, hands shoved in his pants pockets, posture stiff and awkward in a way that means he has something else he wants to say. He glances at the other alpha again, who is standing nearby, arms crossed and brow furrowed in a thoroughly unfriendly way. "Mr. Eames. Can you leave us in private, please?"

 

The alpha doesn't respond right away, and for a second Arthur thinks he might have to repeat himself, but then the man suddenly hums affirmatively and slinks away, gaze fierce and unrelentingly fixed on Dom until the last possible moment. If it wouldn't be perceived as completely discourteous and juvenile, Arthur would roll his eyes. _Alphas_. 

 

"He's…satisfactory?" Dom asks the moment the other alpha is out of earshot. Arthur interprets this question as: _you feel safe around that lunatic_? 

 

Arthur guides him down the corridor back to the living room so they can sit while speaking. "He's very good with the children," he says, grinning at the concern on the man's face.

 

Dom grunts as he sits down. "He's meant to protect you, not play with little children."

 

While that's true, he can't really consider Mr. Eames's skills at entertaining the boys with anything but gratitude. Arthur simply ignores the jab and smiles politely. "How are you?"

 

Shedding the unpleasantness of his greeting, Dom seems to recall why he's actually at a the penthouse, concern washing across his face as he leans forward to earnestly consider Arthur. "I'm fine. But how are you really? You have everything you need?"

 

There's something strange about the way Dom is asking, and Arthur is a bit frightened by it, so his default response is to furrow his brow and ask: "I told you I'm okay. Why? What's going on?"

 

He hates the way Dom is looking at him — sadness and pity reflected in his gaze. "Nothing is going on. I just want you to remember you can tell me if you need help."

 

If he was smart and brave, Arthur might have pressed him further for information about what he's talking about. Everyone always tells Arthur how brilliant he is, and while it's true his IQ tests are off the charts, he's very dumb and naive about a lot of things. He always thought there was one kind of smart — a standard that could be applied to anyone living anywhere, but that's not true. There are different kinds of intelligence, and Arthur now knows the smart that makes him score perfectly on aptitude tests in not the same kind of smart that would allow him to read people and their intentions.

 

He has no idea why Dom is here, asking ominously ambiguous questions, but the sense of dread he feels spurs him to smile and saying he's _fine_ over and again until the alpha leaves him alone.

 

He sits on the couch for a long time after the alpha leaves, staring out the window.

 

***

 

"Do you have any…sevens?" Mr. Eames asks, seated with his legs crossed as he cradles the cards.

 

"Go fish!" Haru cries in delight, giggling when the alpha scowls at him.

 

"Cheeky monkey," he grumbles, and Arthur grins, considering his own cards. 

 

"Do you have any, um…twos?" Haru asks, smiling victoriously as Arthur glares and hands over the cards. 

 

"You're cheating. Counting cards again," Arthur grumbles, noting the boy doesn't bother to deny the charge. They've noticed the child has a gift at cheating at cards, a discovery that delights Mr. Eames. _He's going to be brilliant at the casino_ , he crowed until Arthur's scowl silenced him. Instead, Haru announces he has to use the bathroom and leaps up to his feet. "Do you need help?" Arthur asks, but the boy simply runs from the room, shouting the order that he and Mr. Eames are not to move.

 

The alpha grins and lays down his cards, stretching out on his back. "That's a clever boy you've got there." He folds his arms behind his head and looks at Arthur. Arthur smiles thinly because, yes, it's true that Haru is clever, but cleverness is a double-edged sword. It reveals truths, both desired and unwanted. Haru is smarter than every other child his age, but he's also keenly aware of his father's absence. "What did that bloke want? From before?" Mr. Eames asks suddenly.

 

Arthur blinks in surprise. "You mean Dom?" When the alpha nods, he shrugs. "Just checking on me."

 

Mr. Eames considers him for a long moment. "He do that a lot?" Arthur stares back in confusion, so he adds: " _Check on_ you?"

 

He blushes so furiously that his ears must turn crimson. "I'm married," he spits through clenched teeth, angry at the suggestion. The idea of ever desecrating his vows makes him feel ill. No matter how angry he is at Akio, they are still mates, and as such they are loyal to each other. 

 

"I know you are. Doesn't stop alphas from making assumptions, though," Mr. Eames responds.

 

"The only one making _assumptions_ is you," Arthur growls, voice pitched low in case Haru returns from the bathroom. "It takes a warped mind to think of something like that. Dom is an honourable man. He's married and has _two children_."

 

"Oh…" the alpha replies, frowning. 

 

"Yeah _, oh_ ," Arthur mutters. "Why don't you worry less about Dom and get yourself sorted? Take some personal days, or something…" 

 

Since beginning as their bodyguard, Mr. Eames hasn't filed for a single personal day, quite the feat given his predecessors each occasionally needed to take a day off to attend a birthday, baptism, or funeral. 

 

Eames shrugs, slowly sitting up when Haru runs back into the room. "I'd miss you yelling at me too much." He grins and winks at Arthur.

 

He should box his ears, as Mrs. Narita would say, but he doesn't. Instead, Arthur ignores the heat spreading across his cheeks and looks down at the cards.

 

***

 

The invitation to dinner surprises him and arrives in an absurdly formal white envelope. _Classic Akio_. The card inside lists a date and time, along with instructions regarding attire. If these were the old days, Arthur would call his mate and tease him about the grand gesture, but now the alpha always sounds busy and annoyed when he calls. So he simply doesn't do that anymore. Arthur has no idea what the dinner will be about, but he assumes it must be business-related if Akio has requested he attend. Despite the evolution of their relationship, the alpha still likes to project the appearance of normalcy, and that includes parading around his mate and children for photo opportunities.

 

Arthur wishes he didn't feel flattered and pleased by the invitation. He hates that small, weak part of his soul that still clings to the hope that one day things will be as they were before — that one day Akio will want him again. He reminds himself that this is part of his duty. Donning a tux and mingling pleasantly is Arthur's role, and he plans to execute it with dignity because that's all he has to offer.

 

"Wow, you look great," Mr. Eames comments when he walks into the living room wearing his tuxedo.

 

He's not proud that these kinds of flippant remarks please him, but Arthur refuses to encourage them as he sometimes does (albeit unintentionally) by smirking or smiling, mostly because this time Haru and Takeshi are present and watching him. Of course, encouraging Mr. Eames at all isn't appropriate, but that's besides the point. Sometimes, in his moments of weakness, any attention from an alpha is extremely comforting. 

 

"You're okay watching them?" he asks instead, pivoting away from awkward territory.

 

"Yeah, of course. We're going to have a great time, yeah?" he asks, grinning down at the boys.

 

Takeshi's new favorite past time is running around the living room and crashing into Mr. Eames, which is where he is now, clinging to one of the man's trouser legs. Meanwhile, Haru is on the floor already dealing out cards like a pro. "Yeah!" he agrees.

 

Arthur nods, re-adjusting the cufflinks pinning the French cuffs at his wrists. They were a gift from Akio, so he thought it appropriate to wear them, but now they feel heavy on his arms, like anchors. "Thank you…for watching them." He feels inexplicably nervous given that he's just going to dinner with his husband, but he hasn't seen Akio in weeks, and lately their conversations are stilted and awkward as though they're strangers meeting for the first time.

 

"You all right?" Mr. Eames asks, so he knows it must be apparent how anxious he feels.

 

Arthur nods. "Yeah. Fine," he says and waves to the boys. "I love you. Be good, okay?"

 

***

 

Akio sends one of his guards, along with a car, to bring him to the restaurant, a soaring black, glass tower. He has to readjust to having a silent sentinel, who unlike Mr. Eames doesn't banter and smirk at every tiny provocation. The quiet is appreciated, however, because Arthur is extremely nervous and he isn't sure he could make conversation even if he had to. He hopes some of the anxiety will diminish once he sees the alpha.

 

They ride the lift up to the second floor, and this time he isn't surprised when the doors open and Akio is standing by the only table placed in the middle of the cavernous room. This is the alpha's preferred style: buying out an entire restaurant for privacy's sake. 

 

Arthur's whole body feels warm as he walks across the room, guard close at his side, as Akio watches him. "Hello," Arthur greets, flashing a smile when Akio bends down to kiss his cheek.

 

"Thank you for coming," the alpha says, pulling out a chair that he slowly pushes in as Arthur sits down on it.

 

The guard turns and walks back to the lift.

 

Even for Akio, the formality of this dinner is over the top, so Arthur curiously gazes up at him and asks: "Is everything all right?"

 

Akio whips out the hem of his jacket with a flourish as he sits down, his expression devoid of any playfulness or mirth, which reenforces Arthur's belief that this dinner isn't commemorating a joyous occasion. "I wanted you to be here because I have something very important to share with you."

 

Arthur opens his mouth to encourage the alpha to share it already, but suddenly the elevator dings and the doors open. "Ah…" Akio sighs and stands up quickly. 

 

When Arthur turns in his seat, he sees a young man step out of the car, and he recognizes that the stranger is also accompanied by one of Akio's guards. Following suit, he scoots back the chair and stands to greet whoever this person is — clearly someone of importance if Akio felt the need to invite them to a formal dinner. He wonders if they are a rival business owner, or perhaps a politician Akio needs to woo for a favor. But no…upon closer inspection, this person is too young to be a powerful leader. Arthur thinks the young man must be seventeen…eighteen, at the most. He's slight, with dark hair, and when he's close enough, Arthur can smell he's also an omega.

 

Seeing another omega, a stranger, in Akio's vicinity immediately raises Arthur's hackles. "Who is this?" he asks, deliberately rudely because now he knows this young man can't possibly be a politician or business associate. Not only is he too young, but omegas are rarely sent on negotiations because they are no match for alphas. 

 

"Why don't we sit down for a moment?" Akio asks pleasantly, attempting to handle Arthur as he always handles him.

 

"Tell me now," Arthur snaps, surprising both of them. Akio stares at him while the omega nervously drops his gaze to the floor, demure and submissive. The perfect omega. He feels dizzy and too hot, the usual preludes to one of his, as Akio calls them, tantrums. Arthur is gripping the slippery edge of a precipice with his fingertips, but he's going to fall.

 

Akio clears his throat, plainly displeased with Arthur's antics, but his tone is maddeningly calm when he explains: "This is Omega Secundus."

 

He collapses onto the chair, hands covering his face. There's a faint ringing in his ears, but he can still make out the omega's voice, saying: "I should go…I can go," followed by Akio telling him to stay. Salt in the wound.

 

Arthur is clearly devastated, and yet Akio can't bear to be separated from his precious new mate — his second husband — _Omega Secundus_. Of course, it's his right as a powerful alpha to take as many mates as he likes, but it never once, not even for a second, occurred to Arthur that he would ever actually do this. This explains where Akio has been all this time — where he disappears to for weeks at a time.

 

"Is this because I can't bear more children?" he asks, humiliated for a number of reasons, not least of which is the pathetic way his voice breaks.

 

The one small mercy is that he appears to have thrown a wrench in Akio's carefully orchestrated event. Arthur has always had a talent for upsetting his mate's choreographed life with his petulance and random acts of rebellion. No one knows what to do. The omega keeps looking at Akio for guidance, while the alpha looks uncomfortable with the whole situation, but also Arthur detects some sadness in his gaze as well. Akio is a strict, uncompromising man, but he's not a monster. There was a time when they loved each other — Arthur still loves him — and he knows it. 

 

He's trying to be clear, but not cruel. Arthur hates him for that compassion. He wants a big, fiery fight that burns everything to the ground and leaves no more questions between them. 

 

"Arthur, I have to consider the future of my empire. I need heirs. But you'll be properly cared for your whole life, I swear it." Arthur stands suddenly and walks towards the lift. He refuses to just sit there and listen to Akio's absurd reasoning, especially under the scrutiny of his mate's new lover. "Arthur!" Akio shouts, the anger in his voice sending a chill up his spine. The omega part of his brain commands him to immediately stop and turn around — to crawl back on hands and knees and grovel until the alpha forgives him. He ignores those impulses and keeps walking, even when Akio continues: "Arthur, I command you! Come back here!"

 

The implicit threat in his voice mustn't be serious, however, because Akio never phones the guard to drag him back upstairs by the hair roots. In fact, the guard is waiting downstairs to accompany him back to the car, and the man seems completely unsurprised to see him. The entire trip back to the penthouse is a blur, Arthur barely able to think or process what just happened. He needs to see the boys, but doesn't want to cry in front of them.

 

There's still no plan formulated in his head when he walks back into the penthouse alone and Haru races towards him. Arthur drops to his knees on the lacquered floor, ignoring the painful jolt that travels up his legs, and throws his arms around the little boy. "Daddy!" Haru cries, temporarily obvious that his father is a mess, and simply blissful that he's returned.

 

Mr. Eames is close behind him, takes one look at Arthur's face, and frowns: "What happened?"

 

"Nothing.." Arthur whispers, because denial is his first line of defense these days. "Here, can you take him, please? I have to go lay down. I don't feel well. I'm sorry, Lamby. Daddy has to go lay down," he rambles, untangling himself from Haru's chubby arms so he can make a quick getaway to the master bedroom. 

 

He barely makes it inside the room before bursting into tears. Arthur collapses on the side of the bed, weeping uncontrollably into his palms as he attempts to stifle the wail building in his chest. All of his clothing feels too tight and restrictive suddenly, so he yanks at the bow tie until it comes loose, then unbuttons his collar. It doesn't help. It occurs to Arthur, as he hunches over his legs and tries to suck in a deep breath, that he's having a full-blown panic attack. 

 

His whole life, Arthur has been taught that an omega's primary purpose is to find a mate and keep them forever, and now his life is unravelling. Yes, Akio claims he'll be cared for, but he'll basically be a widower. An omega without an alpha is an empty husk, a target of pity and shame. He wonders if he'll have to still pretend to be one unit of a happy family. Arthur doesn't think he'll be able to do that anymore — smile and wave as though his heart isn't broken in a thousand pieces. 

 

In his grief, he's forgotten to lock the door, a grave miscalculation because it takes a traditional lock, several deadbolts, and a chain lock to keep out nosy Mr. Eames, who comes crashing into the bedroom a second later. "What the bloody hell is the matter with you—" biting off the end of that sentence the second he lays eyes on Arthur. "Jesus, what happened?" he asks, eyes widened as he drops down before the omega and gazes up at his face.

 

It's pointless to offer any more denials or fake assertions, so Arthur simply shakes his head and confesses: "Akio…he took another mate."

 

The alpha collapses back on his heels, appearing to be genuinely gobsmacked, which makes Arthur feel a little less embarrassed about the situation. He's fairly sure most observers would accuse Arthur of overreacting, and say that he, as an omega, has certain duties he must fulfil, and that includes being an obedient mate, who doesn't question his husband when he makes these kinds of decisions. But Mr. Eames looks completely shocked, mouth agape, but silent for a few seconds until he mutters: "What a fucking wanker."

 

The harsh words surprise both of them — Mr. Eames that he's said them aloud, and Arthur that someone sides with him on the matter. They stare at each other until Arthur snaps out of and asks: "Where are the boys?"

 

"Watching telly."

 

Arthur nods and reaches over to pluck a few tissues from the nightstand to dab at his wet face. He needs to go out there and see his sons, but first he must pull himself together. "I don't want them to know," he whispers, well aware that part of his sons' genetic gifts includes exceptional hearing. 

 

Mr. Eames sighs, as though he's just charged him with a Sisyphean task. "Arthur, they're going to eventually notice when their father isn't coming 'round anymore."

 

He's so crushingly depressed that Arthur can't even rise to the bait of the alpha using his first name. Instead, he focuses on smothering the next wave of sobs that threaten to pour out of him upon hearing those words. He stands up quickly, refusing to acknowledge the soft look on Mr. Eames's face. He doesn't want anyone to feel sorry for him because of his own failings. "I know, but I just need some time, okay?"

 

The alpha is still kneeling on the floor when he looks up at Arthur and nods slowly: "Of course."

 

***

 

They carry on as before, pretending everything is normal for the sake of the children, who must detect something is amiss but they're too afraid to ask. Arthur is filled with terror, but he's not sure what his next move should be beyond keeping his head down and hoping Akio allows him to remain as a dependent. For six terrible days, Arthur waits until finally Kayo comes to the penthouse. The second he sees her face, Arthur knows that _she_ knows.

 

"Omega Saito—" she begins, but Arthur grabs her by the wrist and pulls her into the study before she says anything in front of the kids. 

 

"Did you know?" he asks immediately, arms folded and gaze icy as he surveys her face. Yes, Kayo looks pale and upset, but she's Akio's right-hand woman. She knows everything he's up to during the course of the day, and while they're supposedly _friends_ , he knows friendship doesn't trump the employer-employee relationship. 

 

Her red lips open in a silent O, and for a ridiculous moment she looks like a fish gulping for air. "I had _no idea_ ," she says with such conviction that Arthur automatically believes her. "I don't question what Mr. Saito does in his private time. You must believe me."

 

Arthur takes her hand comfortingly between his own. "I do believe you," he sighs, feeling a pang of guilt when Kayo looks immensely relieved. He should have known his friend wouldn't betray him, but then again a week ago Arthur would have said the same about Akio. "What am I going to do? Akio says nothing will change, but I find that hard to believe."

 

"Yes," she agrees, sighing deeply and laying her hand atop his to squeeze his fingers. Kayo never sugarcoats truths, and today is no exception. "I find it hard to believe as well, but you must carry on as you did before. Do everything expected of you. It is your only option."

 

Arthur frowns. Occasionally, anger overwhelms any sadness he's experiencing. Why should he pretend? Why should Akio, the smug bastard, get to do whatever he pleases while Arthur hangs on the cross? "How can I do that? I won't be able to look him in the eye, let alone pretend things are the same."

 

"You must," Kayo emphasizes, shaking his hand a little, fear clouding her gaze. "For your children and yourself. You mustn't anger him."

 

Arthur has never been afraid of Akio — deferential and respectful, yes, but never fearful for his safety. Though he already knows he doesn't want to hear the answer, Arthur wills his tongue to move. "Why? What will he do?"

 

Kayo shakes her head. "I'm not sure."

 

***

 

After dinner, Arthur walks into the kitchen, which is supernaturally spotless as usual. An outside observer would never know they've just enjoyed a three-course meal because the maids have already tidied up all the counter space, washed the dishes, and put them back in the cupboards. The only smudge on the other pristine surface is Mr. Eames, who is pouring two glasses of wine, one of which he wordlessly hands Arthur.

 

"Thanks," Arthur murmurs, hurriedly taking a big gulp. He normally doesn't like the taste of alcohol, but after this week is willing to make an exception. 

 

The alpha leans against the counter and watches him closely. "Sure," he says, sipping the burgundy liquid. 

 

Silence settles between them. Arthur put the kids to sleep an hour ago, and the staff are gone for the day, save for Mr. Eames and some security guards in the lobby far below. The alpha stays with the family twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, in a bedroom located beside Haru's room. Other than Kayo, he has been the only witness to the unravelling of their family, but he's yet to prod Arthur on the details of what happened the night he fell apart.

 

For that, Arthur is grateful and feels he owes the man an explanation, but before he can elaborate, the alpha speaks: "If he's blaming you, he's full of it."

 

The base of the glass leaves wet figure-eights on the counter as Arthur twirls it across the surface. Though he hasn't shared details of their conversation, Mr. Eames somehow already knows the heart of the matter, perhaps because Akio is the kind of man who exudes lecherous tendencies and shaky moral character, but Arthur has been too stupid to see the truth. But no…that's not possible. Too many believe in the Saito myth for that to be true. Rather, Mr. Eames must possess a skill that allows him to see the real nature of people.

 

"I can't have more babies," he explains, this being the first time he can state that reality without falling to pieces, though he does pick up the glass and take another swig. For courage.

 

"So bloody what?" the alpha scoffs. "You gave the bastard two children. Isn't that enough?"

 

"Apparently not," Arthur mutters bitterly into his wine glass. 

 

The goal of any empire is self-perpetuation, and the easiest way to achieve that is through plentiful offspring. Two children is not enough. Five children will not be enough. Akio Saito will take many mates — as many as possible — because it's in the best interest of his legacy to do so. If their lives are all contained on a chess board, Arthur is only one piece, and not a very big piece at that. Perhaps one of the pawns. Meanwhile, Akio Saito is the king, and the king does as he damn well pleases.

 

Mr. Eames doesn't savour wine the way he's meant to. He polishes off half a glass in one gulp like a shot and then sets it aside. "It's not your fault. You know that, yeah?" When Arthur looks at him, unconvinced, he points a finger. "I mean it. You're raising two lovely boys, and this isn't your fault. I want to hear you say it."

 

He smirks, assuming this is one of the alpha's silly little games, but the man stares at him, unblinking and deadly serious. This is no joke, so though he feels a bit silly, Arthur sets aside the glass, sucks in a deep breath and repeats: "It's not my fault."

 

He's not quite sure he believes it, but it helps to know that people like Kayo and Mr. Eames — people he genuinely likes — believe it. If they see things this way, maybe he's not the colossal screw up who failed his mission.

 

Maybe.

 

***

 

To be married, but not-married, presents certain complications. Arthur and the children still attend certain functions related to Proclus, and he smiles and allows Akio to hold his hand as they play the parts of loving, doting spouses. Akio still comes by for events centred around the boys: birthdays and recitals, and the boys are cautiously happy to see him, though Haru seems far warier of his father than Takeshi, probably because his memory is sharper and he therefore remembers the abandonment more clearly.

 

But Arthur's own milestones are not celebrated, though Kayo (and by extension Mr. Eames) are aware of the date and make sure to wish him a happy birthday. He accepts these well-wishes with a kind of muted depression. In his opinion, it would be less painful and awkward for everyone if the date of his birth simply passed without any fuss being made. However, this is a minor inconvenience in comparison to other obstacles Arthur must now face on his own.

 

An inability to birth more children and a birth control prescription don't stop the heats. The unending burn could be easily circumvented with suppressants, but Arthur would need permission from Akio to secure a prescription, and in his haste to get as far away from the alpha, he forgot to sort out the specific details about their new arrangement. 

 

Curled up in the centre of the master bedroom floor, it occurs to Arthur that he's going to need to take control of his own life now because waiting for Akio to take care of him isn't exactly working out. His dress shirt and pants are already soaked with a combination of perspiration and his body's natural lubrication, and the muscles in his back and legs are atrophying, making movement or a mad dash to find help impossible.

 

Haru finds him first, having recently mastered opening doors. The boy stands on his tip toes, reaches up and turns the doorknob so he can walk inside, and he freezes in horror upon discovering his father. He's too young to really understand what heat is, but he's an alpha, and as such can smell the pheromones pouring into the atmosphere. Whereas the scent causes a frenzy in adult alphas, it terrifies Haru, who sprints from the room shouting for help.

 

But the only person available to help is Mr. Eames, and Arthur can't shout to call Kayo instead because the muscles in his jaw are locked now as well. He hears footfalls in the hallway, and closes his eyes in anticipation of whatever is about to happen. He genuinely doesn't know what that will be. The door hinges creek and then the footsteps stop. "Go wait in the hallway," Mr. Eames instructs the boys. Followed by silence. Arthur simply waits for a sign of what is happening — a sound, a pair of hands touching him. But nothing happens for what feels like a very long time, and suddenly Mr. Eames speaks: "I'll call Kayo."

 

The door shuts and Arthur is left in darkness and quiet. He should feel relieved, maybe a little impressed, at Mr. Eames's control, but instead he feels exactly as he did before — depressed and abandoned — with an added heap of sexual frustration. Kayo will run over to save the day, but suppressants aren't the same as a rut. Arthur now knows that from personal experience. He misses the connection he briefly enjoyed with Akio — that feeling of being claimed and utterly sated. Chemicals that trick his neurons can't compete with a firm, authoritative fuck by an alpha.

 

Alas, Arthur doesn't have another option. So he waits, and Kayo arrives, a cool breeze in an unbearably humid climate. She fusses over him, strips the soiled clothes, draws him a bath, and helps him descend into the water. Afterwards, she dries him off with a towel, holds his hands as he steps into the fresh pyjama bottoms, and then walks with him to the bed. She goes as far as to physically place the suppressant tablet into his mouth and then cradles his head so he can drink a few gulps of water. 

 

Kayo sits with him for hours, stroking his brow through the worst of it as she calmly explains he will need to take the suppressants regularly now. She doesn't say for how long, but Arthur understands the underlying meaning: he's going to suppress his heats until he's too old to have them any longer. He will live many years alone and unfulfilled, quietly withstanding the worst kind of itch he can never scratch. He will do this because he belongs to Akio, but Akio has moved on to more fertile fields.

 

"I hate him," Arthur says when he can finally speak again. He needs to say those words, and Kayo is the only person he feels he can say them to. "I hate him and I still love him. Does that make sense?"

 

"Yes," Kayo whispers, still stroking his brow. "But you must never say that to anyone else. Do you understand?"

 

Arthur nods. He understands that perfectly well, and he knows his role. 

 

But now he has a new mission: figuring out how to free himself.

 

***

 

The official story he tells the boys is that he had the flu. One day he'll be able to tell them the truth, but right now they're too young for the birds and bees discussion, and they're certainly too young to hear that Arthur could have been easily fixed by sex with their father, but Akio is too busy fucking someone else now. 

 

Arthur kneels in front of Haru as he helps the boy into his little suit. Tonight is one of the rare events that they're required to attend as a pseudo-family. Takeshi is already in his smart attire, seated on Haru's bed as he watches him get ready. 

 

"Is Eames our new dad?" Haru asks suddenly, so completely out of left field that Arthur nearly topples over in surprise.  

 

He supposes the question makes sense, though. Haru is now six (Takeshi is four), so logically they're confused about why their father is gone all the time, and it also makes sense that they would look for a new father figure. The boys adore Mr. Eames, and the alpha does a good job looking after them, but he's not their dad, and Arthur should explain that.

 

"No, Lamby. Mr. Eames is our bodyguard," he says, clipping on the powder blue tie under Haru's collar.

 

"Oh…" Haru replies, sounding a little disappointed. "Where's our dad then?"

 

Arthur smooths down his tie and buttons his jacket. "I told you. Daddy is busy with the business."

 

"All the time?"

 

Arthur sighs and stands up. "Yes, all the time. Come on," he says, helping Takeshi off the bed. "Time to go."

 

***

 

Arthur is smiling his way through a painfully boring interaction with a diplomat from Sweden. He takes a slow sip from a flute containing perilously little alcohol and dares a glance around the room to see where everyone else is. Mr. Eames is entertaining the boys near a huge statue of Venus. He can't hear what they're saying, but the alpha makes a face that cracks up Haru. He very nearly smiles, but at the last second remembers where he is and returns his full attention to the diplomat.

 

Akio decided to throw a party in honour of his newest business partners: an Aryan army of Swedes with faces like stone, who don't smile and drone on in a monotone that inspires Arthur to down multiple flutes of champagne. Luckily, there is a near-constant stream of caterers, waiters, and waitresses bringing the party more food and booze. But champagne is no match for the constant murmur pouring from the diplomat's mouth, so Arthur scratches his left temple — a signal for Mr. Eames to come and save him.

 

Ten seconds later, the alpha appears at his side. "So terribly sorry to interrupt," he says in a posh accent Arthur has never heard come out of his mouth before. He's not surprised. Mr. Eames has a gift for parroting accents and he oftentimes regales the boys by imitating characters from TV. "Young Master Saito requires your assistance, Omega Saito." _Young Master Saito_ being what everyone calls Haru. 

 

"Please excuse me," Arthur says to the diplomat, wearing his most charming smile.

 

The diplomat nods in understanding and Arthur walks with Mr. Eames back towards the statue. "Bloody hell. I bet that was dull. I heard that bloke talk for two minutes and felt as though I'd just had a lobotomy," the alpha says under his breath.

 

Arthur smirks, but says nothing in reply. After all, he doesn't want to encourage the alpha's recalcitrant behavior. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like Mr. Eames is an outlier in his opinion of the party and their company. As soon as he arrives at the statue, Haru sighs dramatically and announces: "Daddy, this is boring. I want to go home." 

 

Takeshi is standing at his side, nodding gravely in agreement. "There aren't any other kids," he notes sullenly.

 

"That's true, but we're here to support your father," Arthur says, raising his empty glass to Mr. Eames, who fetches him another full flute from a nearby waiter. He states his thanks and trades glasses, taking another generous swig. 

 

Haru rolls his eyes. "He won't even notice if we go."

 

That might be true, but Arthur still feels a pang of sadness. "That's not true. Your daddy is very happy to see you."

 

Takeshi looks unsure of how to feel about the situation, but Haru seems unconvinced. "Can we go play?"

 

Arthur sighs and glances over to Akio, who is still immersed in conversation with the business leaders. No doubt, it is going to be a lengthy conversation. "Sure, but Mr. Eames is coming with you."

 

"Okay!" Haru shouts and runs towards the main hallway behind the double doors leading away from the grand hall. 

 

Takeshi takes off behind him, followed by Mr. Eames who comically raises his brows in a way that makes Arthur grin. When the doors swing shut behind them, he takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and walks over to Akio. The alpha doesn't miss a beat when he sees the omega approaching and wraps his arm around Arthur's waist as though it was the most natural thing in the world. A thrill runs through his body when Akio touches him, immediately followed by a wave of nausea. He's certain touching Arthur doesn't have the same effect on Akio, and that thought makes him feel pathetic. He tries not to breathe through his nose, but he's unable to fully block out the alpha's familiar, comforting scent. 

 

He wants to run from the building, but he can't. He stands there, smiling politely when all the alphas are introduced to him. He says all the right things, thanking the men and women when they compliment Haru and Takeshi. Soon, they return to talk of business, and it's Arthur's job to remain obediently quiet during this time, no more than an accessory at Akio's side. He fulfils this role until there's a commotion in the hallway and one of the waitresses runs into the grand hall, screaming.

 

Arthur immediately thinks of the boys and sprints towards the doors, and Akio is right behind him. "Haru!" he shouts, automatically flashing back to the attempted kidnapping. He throws open the doors and Haru crashes into him, crying and clinging to his jacket. "What is it? What's happened?" Arthur gasps, staggering into the hallway under the force of the boy's grasp.

 

Mr. Eames is standing in the middle of the hallway over the crumpled figure of one of the waiters, a knife sticking out of the man's neck, the growing pool of blood staining the marble floor. Takeshi is standing nearby — wide, horrified eyes taking in the scene.

 

Akio walks over to Takeshi and picks him up. "What happened?" he barks, snapping Mr. Eames from his daze.

 

"He tried to take Haru," the alpha replies, still looking at the body.

 

Arthur doesn't wait to hear the rest. He grabs Haru by the hand and pulls him away from the body, towards the main exit. "Get the car," he says to Mr. Eames. 

 

***

 

Akio follows them out to the car and carefully places Takeshi in the back with Arthur and Haru. The alpha looks shaken as he gently smooths back the hair from Takeshi's brow and then looks at Haru, who is clinging to Arthur's side and crying. The poor child has survived two attempted kidnappings in less than two years, and Arthur's heart breaks for him. He can't imagine how frightened the boy must be.

 

"Why does this keep happening?" Arthur asks softly.

 

Akio's gaze is tender when he reaches for the omega and strokes his cheek. "They envy us," he murmurs. 

 

Mr. Eames, who volunteered to drive the family back to the penthouse, glances in the rearview mirror. "We should go, Mr. Saito. I'm not sure this area is secure."

 

Akio nods and leans forward to kiss Arthur's brow. "You're all safe. I will never allow anyone to hurt you. I'll be in touch."

 

With that, the alpha closes the door, and Mr. Eames peels away from the curb.

 

***

 

"We were playing in the hallway, and the man came up to me and said I was supposed to go with him." Haru is wearing his pyjamas and Arthur has tucked him into bed, but now he's laying beside the boy, and neither of them are tired. Instead, they're debriefing. "He said you told him to come get me, so I believed him." He adds that last confession sadly, as though he's disappointed in himself for falling for the ploy.

 

"It's not your fault, Lamby," Arthur whispers, stroking the top of his head. "Then what happened?"

 

Haru frowns and takes a deep breath. "I got a bad feeling all of a sudden, so I shouted for Eames, and he came and stabbed him."

 

Arthur kisses his brow and reaches across the bed to turn off the light. "You're safe now," he reiterates for probably the hundredth time. But the words feel empty. 

 

How can he keep promising his children something that is so obviously a lie? 

 

When he's sure Haru is asleep, Arthur sneaks out of the bedroom and walks into the kitchen where Mr. Eames is seated at the long table working his way through one of the more expensive bottles of wine. Upon seeing Arthur, he pours a second glass, and pushes it towards the omega when he sits down heavily beside him.

 

For a few moments, they drink in silence until Arthur looks over at the alpha, and for the first time, takes in his ruffled appearance. There must have been a skirmish before Mr. Eames was able to kill the man because the collar of his shirt is a mess and there's a bit of blood splattered across the white fabric. 

 

"Thank you," Arthur finally says, "For protecting them."

 

The alpha waves his hands through the air, dismissively humble as though Arthur has just thanked him for a mint. "Just doing my job," he mumbles into the glass.

 

Arthur strokes the smooth glass stem and the base's curve. "It's never going to stop, is it?" This is the first time he's given voice to the great fear clouding his mind — that they will never know peace because, as Akio says, too many people envy what they have. 

 

Mr. Eames stares at him for a long time, bright eyes darting thoughtfully as if trying to read Arthur's expression. He's just beginning to wonder if this is going to be one of their more-silence-than-talking conversations when the alpha suddenly speaks: "Arthur…why do you think these people are trying to take Haru?"

 

Furrowing his brow, Arthur stares back in confusion. The answer seems obvious to him. "Because he's the first-born and they know he's the most valuable."

 

"No, I mean, do you know _their motives_ for trying to extort money from the Saito family?" he asks, leaning forward so that his elbows are braced on the table.

 

His face and neck feel warm, partially from embarrassment because he doesn't know what Mr. Eames is getting at, but also because he's filled with a sense of dread as if he is standing at the edge of a very high cliff. "No," he admits softly.

 

Mr. Eames is looking at him in that way Arthur hates, as if the man pities him. He takes a deep breath. "The Saitos…are not loved by everyone—"

 

Just then, Haru calls for him and Arthur stands up so quickly he rattles the table and nearly knocks over their glasses. Without making an excuse, he hurries from the room because he needs to comfort his son, but secretly he's glad to leave since he's not sure he wants to hear the rest of what Mr. Eames has to say.

 

***

 

Neither of them resume the conversation the next time they see each other, and they appear to have reached a silent truce on the matter until one day when Haru and Takeshi are playing on the terrace and Arthur notices them gathered at a single point peering through the balusters. 

 

"What is it?" he asks, walking over to the boys. 

 

When he looks over the edge, he sees a small group of people — maybe twenty individuals — loitering in front of the penthouse's main entrance. There's a cacophony of noise down below, and Arthur can hear the guards shouting a dispersal order at the crowd. 

 

"Who're they?" Haru asks.

 

Arthur's stomach instantly tenses and he takes the boys by their shoulders and guides them away from the railing. "Come inside," he instructs. Trying to affect an appearance of nonchalance, he situates the boys in front of the television and turns up one of their cartoons to almost max volume. "Stay here," he says and goes to find Mr. Eames.

 

He shows the alpha what's happening, but by the time they return to the terrace there are now fifty people gathered on the sidewalk. Mr. Eames braces his hands on the concrete railing and frowns. "How long have they been there?"

 

"Not long. Maybe ten minutes."

 

He nods and draws a gun from the holster strapped to his side and checks to make sure it's loaded. "I'm going down."

 

Arthur instantly feels sick. "No," he gasps desperately, reaching out to grab the alpha's arm to keep him from leaving. He doesn't know how, but he's sure Mr. Eames is going to be hurt if he goes down there, and Arthur can't bear the thought of that. The boys have already lost their father. They can't lose him too. "Please, don't—" He stops talking when the sounds of police sirens drone in the distance. "The police are coming. You don't have to go!"

 

Eames pries his fingers off and shakes his head. "They won't get here in time, Arthur. They're trying to break inside." 

 

The nauseous feeling ramps up another level. "But they won't be able to reach us. We have security codes—"

 

"They know the bloody codes!" Mr. Eames barks, and ends the conversation by storming inside. 

 

Arthur knows chasing him is pointless, so he watches helplessly from above. The crowd is now over a hundred people, and he can tell from a commotion right by the door that a guard is in a physical struggle with one of the individuals. Suddenly, there's a series of pops and several figures collapse to the pavement. Gunfire. He realizes then that the TV isn't playing anymore, and when he looks back Haru and Takeshi are standing in the doorway. "Go back inside!" he shouts and the boys disappear into the living room.

 

A woman screams down below. Arthur sees the moment Mr. Eames emerges from the building and fires into the crowd. Most of the people scatter in a panic, but a few charge forward and the alpha fells them one-by-one. Police cars tear around the corner and come to a screeching halt in front of the building. Though he's many stories above the chaos, Arthur can see the officers are dressed in riot gear, and they immediately club and cuff any of the people still lingering in the street. 

 

***

 

The news says the crowd was a group of activists from something called _The People's Resistance_. Arthur has never heard of them before, but the anchor explains they've been classified a terrorist group by the Japanese and United States governments, and the Saitos have tangoed many times with TPR in the past. They were the same group that attempted to kidnap Akio when he was a little boy, and they've had their eyes set on the ultimate prize all these years — capturing a Saito alpha in order to extort huge sums of money from the family.

 

He feels like a fool. In all his doe-eyed research of his future mate, Arthur never really paid attention to references made to the TPR because it didn't seem important at the time. According to the news, however, the group has had much success recruiting and expanding their numbers. Poverty is rampant and people blame the Saitos for hoarding much of the country's wealth.

 

There's so much he doesn't know, and now he's not sure he ever wants to know it.

 

Akio immediately hears about the attempted break in and insists the boys stay with him for a while until, in his words, they can "upgrade the penthouse's security features." Apparently, that means paying police officers to secure the perimeter of the building. Arthur doesn't put up a fight because he knows Haru and Takeshi are nervous after the almost-riot, and thinks perhaps spending some time with their father will soothe them.

 

He kisses each boy on the top of their heads and tells them to have fun, as though carefree play is even possible at this point. Akio simply nods at him and leaves with the children, and Arthur is sure to lock the door behind him. He stands in the hallway, listening to the strange sound of silence that he's so unaccustomed to these days. Normally, there's some kind of commotion, courtesy of Haru or Takeshi, or a combination of both, ringing through the penthouse.

 

But now the only sounds he hears resonate from one of the guest bathrooms where he finds Mr. Eames tending to a wound on his neck. The alpha has removed his shirt to tend to the cuts, which look like scratch marks. "Here, let me," Arthur says, taking the washcloth and sitting on the counter so he can see what he's doing. The gashes aren't deep, so he dabs a bit of hydrogen peroxide on them, murmuring an apology when the alpha visibly winces. He wonders what kind of person rushes at a man wielding a gun. "They must be desperate," he comments idly.

 

Mr. Eames gazes down at him for a moment. "They are."

 

It occurs to him again how quiet their home is, followed by the realization that they are positioned extremely close to one another, Mr. Eames's bare torso nearly touching his knee cap. Tattoos wrap around the man's biceps and stretch across his chest and back, and he's seized by the sudden desire to trace them with his fingertips. If he was still pretending to be a naive witness to his own life, Arthur might have claimed he hadn't noticed his handsome guard, nor appreciates the sight of him wearing only trousers. However, it seems pointless to continue that charade.

 

His thighs slowly part to accommodate the alpha's wide trunk when he steps closer to him, neck arching until the back of his head gently rests against the mirror. He's afraid to move or startle the moment in any way — not even daring to breathe when the man touches his cheek then cups the side of his neck. "Mr. Eames," he sighs.

 

"I love when you call me that," the alpha whispers a second before their lips press together.

 

Arthur whimpers pitifully, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him forward so he can loop his arms around the man's neck. Mr. Eames holds him tightly, and for a second they're clinging to each other too fiercely to move, but Arthur doesn't mind because it feels so good to want someone, and to have that someone want him in return. They separate slowly and Mr. Eames gazes at him — searching for permission — and Arthur only has to nod once to grant it. The alpha kisses him roughly this time, grabbing and pulling, and Arthur allows it, parting his lips and moaning throatily when the man's tongue plunges into his mouth. 

 

He arches his back and drags Mr. Eames closer so he can press against him and feel the warmth of his skin. The alpha is strong — Arthur has always known that — but this is the first time he's felt the promise in those muscles as they flex beneath his bared flesh. Arthur greedily touches him as they kiss, stroking and clawing at the back muscles and tracing his spine down to the dip above the swell of his ass. He's so consumed with the embrace and exploration that he barely registers Mr. Eames struggling to unbutton his shirt. "Can I…?" he pants upon separation and Arthur nods a second before the alpha rips open his shirt and the little pearl buttons go flying in every direction.

 

It doesn't matter, though. He doesn't care about the shirt or Akio anymore. All he has are the boys and Mr. Eames, and he wants the alpha. His bare feet touch the tiled floor as rough hands spin him around and press his chest into the marble counter. He doesn't object when the alpha yanks down his pants. Instead, he arches his back appealing, a throb of pleasure coursing through him when the alpha groans in response. "You smell so good," Mr. Eames sighs, splaying kisses along the back of his neck. "I wanted to fuck you that day I found you."

 

Arthur knows exactly what he means. He remembers laying on the floor and sensing Mr. Eames's presence, and in that moment confusing desire for acquiescence. He wasn't just surrendering to his heat. He wanted the alpha even back then.

 

"I wanted you too," he sighs, gasping when the alpha leans down to nip at the side of his ass.

 

The suppressants don't fully mask his scent, nor do they stop his body from its natural biological reaction when an alpha excites him. He trembles when Mr. Eames grips his hips and pulls him back so the alpha's erection presses between his cheeks. The wetness pours out of him, coating his thighs and the alpha's pelvis. He hears the man groan in response and feels fingers touching his entrance. In the mirror, he sees Mr. Eames dip his fingers into his mouth and realizes the man is tasting him. Their gazes meet for a split second but he looks away quickly out of fear he'll come if he watches too long.

 

He's already hard, cock bobbing in the air, but he grips the counter for purchase, afraid to touch himself for even a brief moment. "Please," he moans again, a tremble travelling through his body. That ache that never really went away is back in full-force — a deep, pulsating wound. He's also mindful that they should be quick because someone might come to the penthouse, most likely Kayo to check up on him.

 

The alpha shushes him, large hands comfortingly stroking his back. "I've got you, darling," he whispers, drawing a ragged cry from the omega when his cock presses inside. 

 

It's been so long since he's been intimate like this, and at first the alpha feels unbearably huge, stretching him to the fullest extent. But his body is built to accommodate alphas, releasing another wave of wetness. "Oh God," Arthur moans, willing his eyes to remain open because he wants to watch them in the mirror's reflection. "Fuck me," he begs, wiggling his ass back and forth and shoving backwards to work the alpha's cock deeper. 

 

Mr. Eames swears loudly, grips the omega's waist and sets a brutal pace. Arthur cries out, forehead dropping to the cool marble as the alpha's hips slap against his rear. It feels so good, occasionally straying into too much when Arthur pleas for him to slow down lest he orgasm prematurely. Mr. Eames plays him like an instrument, speeding up at the right times, and slowing down when Arthur is too worked up, keeping his strokes steady and deep. "You're so tight," the alpha growls, draping across the omega's back and groping his stomach and chest, index finger and thumb pinching a nipple.

 

Arthur moans loudly and Mr. Eames kisses the spot between his shoulder blades before pinning him by the back of the neck and fucking him at a frenzied pace. His mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes pinched closed, as he comes. It happens too fast, and Arthur wishes the moment could have lasted much longer, but it's been so long since Akio has touched him. He can tell by the suddenly unsteady thrusts of the alpha that Mr. Eames is also close to orgasming. "Can I—Are you?" the alpha gasps, and Arthur knows what he's asking.

 

The alpha wants to knot him. He shouldn't allow it. It's bad enough to betray Akio by letting another alpha touch him, but knotting is an extra step of intimacy. He might have had some reservations if he felt the same level of attachment to the alpha, but he doesn't, and Mr. Eames feels too good for things to end just yet. "Do it," he whispers.

 

That's apparently what he wanted to hear because the alpha groans and grips his hips with bruising force, pumping forward until Arthur can barely breathe. "Fuck, m'gonna come," the man gasps, his voice ragged and unspeakably sexy, and Arthur is consumed by the desire to feel the alpha claim him and purge any lingering memory of Akio's touch. Mr. Eames collapses atop him, his body coiled and tensed until his cock begins to grow. 

 

Arthur moans softly, brow furrowed as he focuses on the stretch and burn. It feels exquisite, and for a split second his overheated omega brain wishes he wasn't on birth control because his body wants to accommodate the alpha in every way, including bearing his children. But that cannot be for reasons beyond Arthur's treacherous womb. Namely, Akio would have both their heads on pikes.

 

Eames grabs him by the waist and walks them over to the wide lip of the sunken bathtub so he can sit down with Arthur on his lap and recline them against the wall. It's a bit awkward to balance, but once they find their equilibrium, the position is rather serene. Arthur's head rests against Mr. Eames's shoulder and the alpha strokes his stomach tenderly, his hand occasionally dipping down to grope at his soft, over-stimulated cock. It hurts a little, but it also feels really good. The alpha noses at his cheek, kissing the burning skin there when he begins to come. Arthur whimpers and angles his face towards the man so they can kiss again.

 

When he's spent, the alpha nips at his swollen lips and sighs: "I'm afraid I'm in love with you, darling." The tone is playful, but there's sadness in his gaze, and Arthur understands exactly why the emotion is there. 

 

"I love you too, Mr. Eames," he whispers, kissing him again.

 

He grins against the omega's mouth. "I think you can call me Eames now."

 

Arthur smiles too, even though they're in so much trouble. "As you like, Eames."

 

***

 

Arthur chases Eames from the bathroom afterwards, just barely summoning the will power to resist when the alpha tries to join him in the shower. The goal is to scrub his skin and wash away the man's scent so no one smells Eames on him. It will require a long, hot shower and lots of body wash, but it's possible. He towels off, changes into fresh slacks and a collared shirt and walks into the living room where Eames is waiting for him. "Well?" he asks, arching his neck to the side a bit so the man can smell him.

 

Eames does and frowns. "Yeah, can't smell a thing," he mutters, clearly displeased.

 

Arthur grins and grabs him by the lapels, dragging the alpha forward to kiss him. "You can't mark me."

 

"I bloody well want to," Eames growls, leaning down to kiss him again when the front door opens. They separate quickly.

 

"Daddy!" Haru cries, running into the room. 

 

Arthur smiles brightly and drops to his knees so he can catch his first-born and Takeshi, who is right behind him. "Hello, my loves! How was it at your father's?"

 

"Good!" Haru declares, holding up a couple expensive-looking handheld game consoles. "Daddy bought us these!"

 

 _Of course he did_. That's how Akio operates — he buys his way out of any situation, including being a neglectful father. But Haru and Takeshi look too happy about their toys for Arthur to rain on their parade, so instead he smiles and kisses the boys on their brows. "Wow, cool. I'm glad you had fun."

 

"Eames!" Haru shouts, running over to the alpha to envelope him in a hug as well. "There's going to be wrestling on later. Can we watch?"

 

The alpha grins and ruffles his hair. "As long as your dad says it's okay," he says, gazing up at Arthur, brows quirked in a not-totally-unappealing way.

 

Arthur just barley stops himself from smirking. "Sure. That's fine by me."

 

***

 

As it turns out, having a secret affair is infinitely more complicated than enduring a not-marriage. Now that he's had a taste of Eames, Arthur wants him all the time, and apparently the feeling is mutual because he's only in bed for a few minutes that night before Eames opens the bedroom door and walks into the room. Arthur is a little afraid the alpha will want to take him on the bed, but even though he's furious with Akio, it feels too disrespectful to let another man rut him on what used to be their bed.

 

Fortunately, Eames seems to be on the same page, or at least realizes Arthur's hesitation, because he extends a hand to him and helps the omega from under the sheets. Together, they walk hand-in-hand to Eames's room and lay down together.

 

They kiss lazily, savouring the moment, the alpha half-draped atop him until Arthur pulls back slightly. "How do they know the codes?" he whispers. When Eames stares down at him in confusion, he clarifies: "You said the crowd downstairs knows the security codes to the penthouse. How?"

 

The alpha sighs and gently touches his cheek and brow, pushing the fringe from his forehead. "Arthur, this group has been after the Saitos for years. They know how to infiltrate staff and security."

 

An image flashes before him — the memory of a waiter laying dead at Eames's feet. He wonders if it was the same man carrying the tray of champagne flutes. He may have seen the man earlier that night, smiled, and thanked him. 

 

"But you'll protect us," he replies quietly.

 

Eames tenderly strokes his cheek. "Yes, love. I promise," he whispers during the descent, lips sealing across Arthur's warm mouth.

 

***

 

Haru is practicing piano scales when Dom drops by for a visit. Eames leads him resentfully into the main room, glaring at the alpha's back the whole time because he's still irrationally jealous of him. Arthur shoots him a warning look when he asks: "Can you leave us alone, please?"

 

Begrudgingly, Eames takes Haru by the hand and guides him from the room, though thankfully Dom seems unaware of the hostile looks the alpha continues to cast their way until he's exited. 

 

"I wanted to tell you this personally," Dom says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Omega Secundus is pregnant." 

 

Arthur is seated on the piano bench at the time, and it's a good thing because he suddenly feels faint. Naturally, he knew this would be the outcome of Akio's new marriage, but still…the idea that some other omega will be carrying his children makes Arthur feel ill. But he's also surprised that the pain is not as sharp when he immediately remembers Eames. 

 

"Please send my congratulations to the happy couple," Arthur says flatly.

 

" _Arthur_ ," Dom emphasizes, surprising him because the man rarely uses his first name. His hands extend outward, palms turned outward as if he's pleading for Arthur to take this seriously. "Listen, I know Mr. Saito has made certain promises to you, and I believe he intends to fulfil them…for now. But you have to be mindful of your status here."

 

"And what is my _status_?" Arthur asks unkindly, spitting the last word.

 

Dom sighs. "Precarious." He glances over his shoulder to make sure they're still alone. "Your…relationship with Mr. Eames, for example. I would be mindful of that."

 

 _Oh_. Perhaps Dom is not as oblivious as he previously thought. Arthur's cheeks burn and his gaze drops to his hands, which are folded on his lap. "Is it obvious?" he murmurs.

 

"A little." When he looks up, Dom smiles faintly at him. "Why else would he nearly take my head off whenever I say two words to you?" Arthur doesn't know what to say, so he's silent until Dom continues: "We've reached a perilous moment, Arthur. There's a lot going on with Proclus and these protests right now, and Akio is in a foul mood. I just don't want you to get hurt."

 

Arthur gazes up at him. "How many people died during that protest?"

 

Dom sighs, shaking his head. "See, that's a good example of a question you shouldn't ask." Footsteps approach the living room and Eames appears at the top of the steps. "Anyway, I should go. Call me if you need anything," he says, bowing with a flourish before departing.

 

***

 

"Why does he want to see you?" Eames asks, leaning against the wall in a way that keeps distracting Arthur from getting ready. 

 

"I don't know," he sighs, rubbing lotion into his cheek. "He just said he needs to see me."

 

Eames frowns, glancing down at his wristwatch. He understands the alpha's trepidation. After all, the last time Akio summoned him for a meeting, he dropped the bomb that he took another mate. "He better not try anything," he grumbles.

 

Arthur smiles and stands up, crossing the room so he can lean into the alpha — so deceiving in his passive recline with all that underlying strength. He reminds Arthur of an indolent lion. "You'll be with me, so you can protect me," he whispers before kissing him.

 

He smiles when the alpha happily hums: "Always."

 

***

 

Akio asks that Arthur come to the office, so that's what he does, dressed in a suit that was just handmade especially for him. "You look gorgeous," Eames says under his breath as they walk through the glass corridor, Arthur shooting him a warning (though flattered) glance in response.

 

Akio looks older than the last time Arthur saw him — a bit warier, a little greyer at the temples. He remains handsome, and though it pains Arthur to admit it, the alpha still has a flustering effect on him. Maybe he always will. But beyond that immediate flush, Arthur no longer feels the same pull towards the man as he used to. In fact, he's more aware of the man standing behind him. He's very careful not to look at Eames as he pauses before Akio's desk. "You wanted to see me?"

 

Akio leans back in his chair and considers him. "You look lovely. Is that a new suit?"

 

He doesn't know how, but Arthur can feel Eames tense behind him. Perhaps that means they've started to bond. "Yes. I'm glad you like it," he replies — polite, but noncommittal.

 

The alpha exhales slowly, gazing at Arthur a little longer. "I haven't seen you in my office in ages." 

 

Arthur flushes at the memory — kneeling in front of Akio, the alpha's cock buried in his mouth. Maybe they'll always be linked by a few memories and a general sense of nostalgia, but that is a poor foundation for any kind of relationship. He would gladly burn those few fleeting moments if it meant living a life in peace with his sons and Eames.

 

His lips quirk into a faint smile, answers, "It's neater this time," and nods to the desk where there are no longer towering piles of papers.

 

Akio chuckles. "Yes," gaze clearing when he pulls himself from the past, clears his throat, and assumes a businesslike air. "The boys have reached an age where they need to focus on their schooling, and now that Omega Secundus is with child, I think it's best that the children live under one roof."

 

The only thing that saves him from fainting is the surge of anger. "What?" he gasps.

 

"Haru and Takeshi will come and live with me. You'll still see them, of course. We'll work out a visiting schedule," Akio continues, as if Arthur isn't swaying on his feet, barely remaining uprightin front of him.

 

"You can't do that," Eames blurts.

 

Arthur wheels around and faces him, eyes wide in horror.

 

Akio stares at the other alpha as if he's just grown a second head. "I beg your pardon?" his voice frigid, rich with a promise of violence that Arthur knows he's capable of fulfilling.

 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Saito," Eames continues, purposefully refusing to look at Arthur, whose visage is now white as a sheet. "But those boys adore Omega Saito. They need to see him every day."

 

"No one is asking for your opinion!" Akio roars, Arthur jumping at the harsh bark. "You're lucky you saved my boy. I've sacked people for less," he spits. But the interruption has put him in a foul mood. His hand slams against the top of the desk when he adds: "This is not up for discussion, Arthur. Have the boys ready by Friday. If you say another word, I swear to God, you'll regret it."

 

There is no room for begging or rational discussion, so Arthur leaves the office and nearly collapses in the hallway, but Eames is there to catch him. "I've got you. It's all right, darling. I have you," he whispers, a strong arm looping his waist and keeping him vertical as they start the long walk back to the penthouse elevator.

 

Despite Eames's gentle tone, or perhaps because of it, Arthur bursts into tears. He hears the front desk secretary ask if he's all right, and Eames respond that it's fine — that he'll handle it. But he can't focus on anything except the fact that he's losing the boys. No matter what Akio promises, Arthur knows this is the alpha's way of slowly siphoning the children away from him and solidifying his new family unit. 

 

"He's taking them. Eames, he's taking them," Arthur moans.

 

"Shh. We won't let him," Eames promises, but Arthur knows he can't possibly make those kinds of guarantees. When it comes to the will of Akio Saito, they are helpless. 

 

***

 

He gathers the boys in Haru's room, and they already know something is wrong because Arthur's eyes are red and puffy and he starts and stops speaking several times before he composes himself and says: "You're going to live with your father for a while."

 

Takeshi immediately cries: "No!"

 

While Haru's face darkens and he asks: "Why?"

 

"Because your father wishes it," Arthur answers truthfully.

 

"I hate him," Haru mutters.

 

"Don't say that. You can't say that," he chastises — maybe too harshly — but the boys must understand they have to respect their father, even if Arthur shares their hatred right now.

 

"Well, I do," the boy continues, wearing an Arthurian scowl. "Why does he need us? He has a new family now."

 

Arthur stares in shock at his first-born. "What do you mean?" he whispers.

 

Haru practically rolls his eyes. "We watch the news, you know. We know he has another mate and they're having a baby."

 

He doesn't know what to say to that. Clearly, the boys know, so there's no point in denying it. Besides, they'll know everything as soon as they're living with Akio. Not knowing what else to say, he looks at the boys and announces: "I'll help you pack." 

 

They do so in silence — just two bags each right now, because he wants the boys to believe they'll be coming back soon. When they're done, Arthur excuses himself and goes to the bedroom to sit on the bed so he can break down for a little bit in peace. He weeps into his hands, hoping to muffle the cries, but as usual Eames appears soon after to sit with him, a consoling arm draped around his shoulders.

 

"He's taking them from me," Arthur cries.

 

"We won't let him," Eames answers.

 

But he's tired of hearing that, and he's weary of people making promises they can't keep. "We can't stop him, Eames," he sighs, wiping at his wet cheeks with the back of his hands. He imagines the house empty — Haru's toys collecting dust, Takeshi's socks resting unused in drawers that will remain shut forever. "I can't live without them," he whispers.

 

Eames falls to his knees in front of Arthur and cups his hands between his own. "Listen to me," he whispers, with such urgency that Arthur immediately stops crying. "You asked before how I knew the people downstairs knew the security codes…"

 

Fear replaces the blood in his veins, chilling his entire body. "Yes?" he whispers.

 

Arthur has seen Eames after he stabbed a man, right before he rushed downstairs to face an angry mob, and he just saw the man face down Akio Saito without batting an eyelash, but this is the first time he's ever seen the alpha really look afraid. Worse, he seems unsure of how to proceed. The tip of his tongue darts out, moistening his lips, and he squeezes Arthur's hands. "What do you think Proclus Global does?" 

 

His brow furrows in confusion because it seems as though Eames just changed the subject. "It's an energy company," he answers simply.

 

"Yes, that's right, but an energy company runs on national resources," Eames says hurriedly, like he's afraid the window for him being able to say these things is shrinking. "Energy companies consume on one end, and then pollute on the other end." 

 

"Why are you telling me this?" Arthur asks, feeling overwhelmed and baffled at the same time.

 

"Have you ever heard of Taiji, Arthur?" the alpha asks, and when Arthur responds with a blank look, he continues: "Tashirojima? Minamisanriku?" But Arthur only shakes his head.

 

"These are small fishing villages that, through a series of misfortunes like tsunamis and economic recession, have been decimated. But these are also places where Proclus Global has constructed large factories that are polluting the water. Proclus is killing the fish, Arthur. Do you understand?"

 

Arthur frowns as he processes this information. "Those people that were downstairs are from the villages?"

 

"Some of them," Eames says. "Others are sympathetic to their cause. Arthur, you must understand: there is a revolution happening in Japan, the poor against the rich, and there are far more poor people than rich. The Saito family embodies everything the revolutionaries detest. They won't stop until Akio is removed from power, and if they need to use you and the children against him, they will."

 

He considers Eames's explanation and wonders if all this is possible. Could he have been sheltered from a class war uprising this whole time? It's conceivable, considering Akio kept him and the boys locked away _for their safety_ all these years. Even when he does go outside, it's in a private car that never strays outside the financial district. And then there are the attempted kidnappings — near-constant threats, and the almost-riot outside.

 

"How do you know all this?" Arthur rasps, gaze searching Eames's face.

 

Eames grips his arms as if he fears the omega will dart from the room. "I was hired by some of these villagers. I'm a thief and a forger, among other things, and I was meant to forge some papers and gain employment under Akio, and then kidnap Haru—"

 

"No," Arthur moans and instantly attempt to climb off the mattress — to get away from Eames — but the alpha stands up lightning fast and pins him to the bed. When Arthur opens his mouth to scream, Eames seals a hand over his mouth.

 

" _Quiet_ ," he growls. "Listen to me. I never did it, did I? In fact, I've killed a few of the people I was meant to help, so I'm in as much trouble as you. I never went through with the kidnapping because I fell in love with you. Understand? I want to help you." Arthur's eyes are huge and filled with terror as he looks at the man's face, but the alpha looks genuine, and his words do make sense. Why would Eames tell him all of this if he meant to hurt them? "I love you and the boys and I mean to get you out of here alive before everything really goes pear-shaped."

 

Slowly, the alpha peels his hand back, and Arthur doesn't scream. Instead, he lays there, gazing up at Eames for a long time. "So you're not on their side anymore?"

 

"I'm not on anyone's side. I never did this for a political cause. I was just supposed to get paid. But now? I know you and the boys are innocent. That's all I know."

 

The bedroom door knob (which, thankfully, they've locked) jiggles and Haru calls: "Daddy?"

 

Eames lets him scramble to his feet to see to whatever Haru needs.

 

They'll have to continue this conversation later.

 

***

 

It takes every ounce of Arthur's acting prowess to maintain a brave face when the boys are wearing their jackets and carrying their bags to the front door where Akio stands, smiling down at them. "Are you excited?" he asks the boys, who respond with a very uninspired chorus of a monotone _yes_. Arthur lifts his chin when their gazes meet, though he doesn't smile. "They'll be home again soon," Akio promises, but Arthur doesn't know if that's true. 

 

He sounds sincere, but that means nothing when dealing with a shark.

 

Arthur diverts his attention to the boys, kissing them on the brows and doing his best to smile in an encouraging way. "I love you. Be good for your daddy," he says, voice wavering only a little bit.

 

"Love you, daddy," Takeshi replies.

 

"I love you," Haru mutters, obviously displeased, but unwilling to storm out levelling the brunt of his anger at Arthur when he's clearly unhappy with Akio.

 

Then they leave.

 

Which means he and Eames are alone and can speak freely, though they wait until Eames has opened a bottle of wine and they take two glasses onto the terrace where they can talk without worrying about Kayo or Dom bursting through the front door.

 

"What have you stolen?" Arthur asks when he's seated outside, a glass of wine cradled in his hand.

 

Eames sighs dramatically, like listing all of his illegal acts is too cumbersome of a task. "Paintings, sculptures, precious artefacts of that nature." 

 

Arthur nods, gazing down at his glass. "So you're good."

 

The alpha smirks. "I'm the best, darling. That's why TPR hired me." 

 

"But won't they know you're betraying them when you don't kidnap Haru?"

 

He takes a long sip of wine and nods slowly as he swallows. "Eventually. They're suspicious now, particularly after I killed a few of their members, but I'm claiming it's because I'm deep undercover and I needed to gain Akio's trust. I think they bought it." Eames squints up at the night sky. "I'm running out of time, though. They're growing impatient. That's why they sent that waiter bloke after Haru. They think I'm taking too long."

 

He sets down the glass and turns towards Eames. "What would they have done to Haru?"

 

"Nothing," Eames answers immediately, then pauses as he considers his answer. "I don't think. It's hard to know, actually. Five years ago, I would have said nothing, but these people are desperate, Arthur. They're dying. And believe me, they've lost more people than the Saitos have."

 

Arthur stands and walks over to where Eames is seated so he can sit across the man's thighs. Eames accommodates him willingly, setting aside the wine glass so he can wrap his arms around the omega. "What are we going to do?" Arthur asks, pressing his nose and mouth into Eames's hair, which has been combed and gelled into submission, but beneath the scent of pomade are Eames's pheromones.

 

"I'll arrange something," the alpha answers, supremely confident, but Arthur has learned alphas often emit courage when they don't feel it in their bones. "I'll get you and the boys to safety, and I'll join you so we can be together."

 

"Akio will never stop looking for us," Arthur whispers. 

 

No force on earth stands between an alpha and their mate and offspring, and Akio's sense of pride will never allow Arthur to leave, let alone on the arm of another alpha. 

 

"He can look all he likes. He'll never find us." It's a nice thought, but this is Akio Saito they're talking about — the most powerful man in all of Japan. Arthur leans back for the sole purpose of gazing disbelievingly at the alpha. Eames smirks and lightly touches his chin. "Remember: I'm the best."

 

***

 

They drink too much because Arthur is heartbroken the boys are gone, and Eames because he wants to forget. Over the course of the night, they polish off a bottle of wine, then drink another during dinner, and Eames is hunting for a third bottle after the chefs and maids are gone when Arthur corners him in the kitchen and they end up making out like a couple of teenagers.

 

He nearly topples over and giggles in embarrassment, and the look Eames casts at him is so genuinely fond that Arthur presses against him for another kiss. This is all he has left in the world, and he refuses to feel guilty for enjoying it. The alpha clearly feels the same because his hands paw at Arthur enthusiastically, tugging up the hem of his shirt to grope at the bare flesh underneath.

 

They're so consumed with each other that they fail to hear the front door open, nor the footsteps down the hallway, and they don't separate until one of the chefs enters the kitchen. Eames pulls away from Arthur in a split second, but it's still a moment too late, and judging by the surprised look on the man's face, they weren't successful in fooling him. Without uttering a word, the chef turns and leaves the kitchen, and Eames immediately reaches for the knife block, drawing out a huge butcher knife. 

 

Arthur's eyes widen and he grabs the alpha's bicep when he realizes what the man is about to do. "Eames!" he cries in alarm. " _Stop_."

 

"I have to," he bellows. "He saw us. He'll tell Akio."

 

But the chef is already gone, and Arthur can't let Eames run downstairs wielding a knife. The guards downstairs will shoot him on sight. "He didn't see anything," Arthur reasons, not exactly knowing if it's true, but believing they have no other option than to hope it is. It's madness to kill the chef, and there is nothing else they can do. He should feel terrified, but after the roller coaster of emotions he's endured the past few weeks, Arthur feels only tired and warm from the alcohol and Eames's proximity. He has no idea what tomorrow will bring, but he knows he needs Eames, his new mate, and his boys. "I want to go to bed," he announces, gripping Eames's free wrist until the alpha returns the knife to the block and follows him from the kitchen.

 

They go to Eames's room and fall into bed, the alpha pressing him into the mattress, kissing and licking at his neck and collarbone. Arthur moans loudly because it feels divine and there's no reason to silence himself any longer. The alpha growls in response, egged on by the noise, and unbuttons his shirt. Arthur runs his fingers through Eames's hair, freeing it from the gel's hold so he can yank and pull, which Eames seems to like because he smirks up at him. 

 

"I love you," Arthur sighs, gaze lingering on the ceiling as he focuses on the sensation of Eames's lips travelling down his body — past his chest and across the trembling muscles of his stomach.

 

The alpha's fingers hook under the waist of his pants and yanks them down as he murmurs against Arthur's hipbone: "I love you too, darling." He slides the trousers and underwear off his legs and casts them aside before dipping down between his thighs.

 

Arthur is about to ask what he's doing when the alpha's warm, wet tongue laps between his spread cheeks. "Oh," he gasps, spine arching off the bed. "What're you doing?"

 

Eames's chuckle travels up the length of his body, a broad palm smoothing against Arthur's stomach, stroking him like a spooked horse. "Easy, love. No one's ever done this for you before?" Before he can articulate a cutting reply about having been a virgin when he married Akio, Eames dips down again and flicks the tip of his tongue against Arthur's hole. 

 

"Fuck!" Arthur cries, fingers curling in Eames's hair — either to stop him or anchor him in place, he's not sure which. He can practically feel the alpha smirk against him before pressing his tongue forth, flicking the tip light against his entrance before flattening his tongue and broadly swiping against the sensitive area. In that moment, Arthur decides he likes it…a lot. "Keep going," he gasps, the fingers of his free hand wrapping around his shaft and stroking slowly.

 

Eames hums affirmatively and thrusts his tongue inside, curling it and exploring Arthur's depths. He cries out again, fist pumping along his hardening dick. It feels alien and exhilarating all at once, and Arthur's body responds accordingly, wetness rushing forth and coating the lower half of Eames's face. He's about to make the alpha stop so he can clean them up and apologize, but the man draws back and groans happily. "You taste so bloody good," Eames sighs, plunging back inside with great enthusiasm.

 

He forgets to be self-conscious after that. The alpha never stops to have Arthur return the favor by sucking his cock, or rutting him. He simply lavishes the omega with as much attention as he can handle. Arthur lasts longer this time due to a combination of the alcohol and Eames being better acquainted with his body, and still he finds himself climaxing much too quickly. Suddenly, his muscles lock up, spine arching high into the air as he comes across his stomach, another wave rushing forth from him much to the delight of the alpha, who pops up from between Arthur's thighs with a wicked grin stretched across his lips.

 

"Oh my God," Arthur laughs. "Look at you," he sighs fondly, reaching to the side table to pluck a few tissues so he can dab at Eames's drenched face. He feels blissed out from the endorphins coursing through his veins, warm, and happy despite everything they've been through and everything they've yet to confront. Eames gently grasps his wrist and pulls away the tissues. As he crawls up the length of Arthur's supine figure, his hips press forth, the rigid length of his dick pressing into the omega's thigh. He smirks: "I can help you with that."

 

"I'm sure you can, pet," he purrs, dipping down to press wet kisses against the curve of his neck.

 

Arthur sighs, fingertips tracing the ridges of Eames's ribs, smoothing across the plains of his pectoral muscles. He wraps his legs around his waist, moaning softly when the head of Eames's cock grazes the wet entrance. When he grinds his hips forward, the tip naturally aligns, and Eames breaches him with a single thrust. He cries out, the sound muffled by the alpha's mouth when he kisses him hungrily. 

 

They rut slower this time, Eames patient with his ministrations, and Arthur more receptive now that they have all the time and privacy in the world. He's over-sensitive coming down from the first orgasm, but he wants to make it good for the alpha, especially because Eames is incredibly sexy in the throes of passion. Arthur is able to watch him this time and take in certain details he missed during their first time: the way his full mouth grows even plumper and redder when he's flushed, the glassy quality of his gaze, how beautiful he looks when he's so close to coming. Arthur cups his face and leans up to kiss him. "Come for me," he gasps.

 

"Fuck," Eames gasps, bowing his head and grabbing under his knees to press back his legs. His thrusts are ragged and desperate and Arthur cries out because it hurts. He's too tender inside, but beneath the pain is a strong undercurrent of pleasure. 

 

Right before he comes, the alpha flips him onto his stomach and shoves back inside, Arthur yowling at the intrusion. However, the sound is quickly drowned out by Eames's shouts, and the loud clap of his hips against Arthur's ass as he fucks him. It's too much…too much. The omega claws at the sheets, wailing the whole time until the alpha freezes atop him. He collapses against Arthur's back, pinning him in place as the knot begins to swell. 

 

Arthur can barely breathe, and Eames has him entirely boxed in, but he loves it. His omega brain relishes the feeling of being completely claimed by an alpha — something he hasn't felt in many years, and if he was to be truthful with himself, never to this degree. He savours every sensation, including the stretch that always feels like it will be too much, and then the spreading warmth when Eames actually claims him. 

 

He moans softly, the alpha splaying kisses along his shoulder blades and the back of his neck. They lay together for a long time, the alpha occasionally shifting and moving the knot minutely inside him, pushing another pleasured groan from Arthur. 

 

His full mouth presses to the omega's ear: "You're mine."

 

In all the chaos surrounding them, it's nice to cling to that one solid anchor. _Yes_. He belongs to Eames now, and Eames belongs to him, no matter what false assumptions Akio chooses to operate under. The boys love Eames — Arthur loves him — and they'll figure out a way to be together.

 

They'll find a way.

 

***

 

The sirens wail all the time lately. 

 

It starts as police vehicles that zip up and down the main express outside the penthouse, but they never stop in the financial district. Instead, they whiz by, sirens blaring, but growing fainter as they disappear over the horizon — towards the Danchi, the tall towers of public housing apartments. 

 

Every day the sirens grow closer, and now Arthur can stand on the terrace and see the police vehicles when they stop, officers jumping out and sprinting after people, clubbing them, sometimes pulling out their revolvers and—

 

Arthur stops going outside. He keeps the terrace door locked, but that doesn't keep out the incessant sound of the sirens.

 

One day, Eames announces the security guards downstairs want to meet with him to exchange notes on maintaining the perimeter. Arthur immediately hates this idea. 

 

"Why can't they come up here?" he asks, following Eames around the penthouse like a stray cat as the man attempts to collect odds and ends: watch, wallet, phone.

 

"Because it's a meeting, Arthur. I'm just going downstairs," the alpha replies, pausing at one point to grip his biceps and kiss the omega's brow. 

 

He watches Eames and frowns. That makes sense, but he still doesn't like the idea. It seems awful outside these days, and if it was up to Arthur, Eames would never leave their home. Besides, it's been too quiet since the chef walked in on them, and Arthur now believes the phrase _too good to be true_ is a natural law. It really is too good to be true that they could be discovered by a staff member and there have been no consequences.

 

"I'm just worried," he confesses quietly.

 

The alpha's hands are large and warm when they cup his face, and Arthur sighs happily against Eames's soft mouth. "I'll be an hour, at the most. You just sit tight, yeah?" He chuckles fondly at the sullen look on Arthur's face, kissing him again before he steps back and winks. "Be good."

 

Arthur could pick out Eames's back from a line-up if he needed to. The shape and swagger of him are entirely unique — the way his broad shoulders sway, the deceiving drag of his feet that gives the appearance of sloppiness or indolence, but belies the precision deadliness below.He's watched this performance many times over the years, but this is the first time he's given himself permission to enjoy it because now it, and everything else about Eames, belong to him.

 

The alpha pauses by the front door and winks at him. Arthur smirks and shakes his head in answer.

 

Then he's gone.

 

***

 

Eames is gone for hours. 

 

Arthur is too nervous to sit still, so he paces the length of the penthouse over and over in the same line, occasionally pausing to glance at various clocks to see what time it is. He bites his nails, an old habit he long ago conquered. Briefly, he considers opening a bottle of wine, but then decides against it. If Eames needs him, he wants to have his faculties sharp. 

 

A loud bang rings outside and Arthur runs to the terrace door, though he doesn't open it. The noise was too loud to be gunfire, and soon a plume of black smoke rises in the air. Something must have exploded. Arthur slowly backs away from the door, eyes wide with terror. He doesn't know what to do. For the first time in years, he is completely, utterly alone.

 

The staff also seem to have vanished. Neither the chefs nor maids arrive at their usual times, but the security guards must be downstairs because Arthur occasionally hears them shout. A few times, the familiar pops of gunfire. 

 

When the sun is low in the sky, his cell phone suddenly buzzes across the living room coffee table, and Arthur practically dives to answer it. "Yes? Hello?" he gasps, not even bothering to check who's calling. He's desperate for any kind of outside communication.

 

"Omega Saito? It's Kayo."

 

"Oh my God. Kayo! Please, what's going on? There are explosions outside, and Mr. Eames went downstairs hours ago and he hasn't returned. Do you know—"

 

"Listen very carefully. I cannot speak long," Kayo interrupts, sounding every bit as overwhelmed as Arthur, which terrifies him into silence. If Kayo is freaking out, it means whatever is happening outside is really bad. "I'm making this call as your friend. Mr. Saito had Mr. Eames taken. I don't know where. The children are fine, but the situation has escalated. Do _not_ leave the penthouse. It's not safe. This is all the information I have. Be safe."

 

Arthur stands frozen in place, staring at a wall, waiting for more, but the line is dead. When he looks at the screen, it's his usual screensaver — a photo of Haru and Takeshi when they were younger, fresh out of the bath, their hair wild and faces glowing. He's not thinking clearly, so he tries to call back the number, even though he's never been able to make outgoing calls or texts and today is no exception. When he hits the call button, an error message appears, stating he is not permitted to perform that function.

 

He collapses onto the couch, numb from shock. Eames. Akio took Eames. Where? Is he even alive?

 

There's another explosion outside and Arthur covers his ears, hunched over on the couch. He can't breathe, and now he understands why. He's having a panic attack, but this time there's no Kayo or Eames to come and save him. There's no one to save him. Tears flow freely down his face as he uses every ounce of mental power to focus on sucking enough oxygen into his lungs so he won't pass out. All he can see are the faces of his children — of Eames's smiling face before he left.

 

He's never going to see any of them again. Akio is going to slowly revoke his security until the building is unguarded. His former mate will watch from his office as angry hordes invade the building and charge the penthouse to rape and kill Arthur. All to punish him for his infidelity and disloyalty. 

 

The next hour is a haze. He tries to turn on the news to see what's going on, but every station is broadcasting an emergency alert, informing people to seek shelter inside their homes. He turns off the TV.

 

First stop is the bathroom. He opens the medicine cabinet and stares at the prescription bottles for a long time. Hesitantly, he plucks one of the amber bottles from a shelf. They're sleeping pills, a prescription Kayo secured for him when he was suffering from a bout of insomnia. There are enough pills, if he wished it, to slip into a deep slumber from which he'd never wake. 

 

He puts the bottle back into the cabinet and shuts the door.

 

Arthur wanders around the penthouse like a ghost, visiting Haru's room first and sitting on the boy's bed. He picks up a teddybear and hugs it to his chest, burying his wet face against the head and breathing in the scent of his child. He can still hear the sound of their first-born's laugh whenever Eames did something wildly amusing, and Takeshi's little footfalls as he hurried after his big brother whenever they were off on one of their quests for fun.

 

Arthur frowns when he sees Haru's favorite train car resting on the table by his bed. He slips it into his pocket.

 

Next stop is Eames's room. Arthur lays down on the bed and pulls the blankets up so he's partially cocooned and he's surrounded in the intoxicating mix of their scents. He briefly contemplates laying right there until the mob invades. At least then he can die with Eames's musk as the last thing he smells. But some small part of him isn't ready to surrender yet, so he sits up again and considers the room, which is when he sees the small plastic card resting on the bureau. Brow furrowed, Arthur stands up quickly and goes to examine it. 

 

It's Eames's security card. He wouldn't have been able to take the lift back up to the penthouse without it, which means he knew he wasn't coming back.

 

Arthur runs his fingertips over the laminated surface and thinks about his options. This is a gift from Eames. It's a way to escape the penthouse, and return later, but where will he go? Outside is too dangerous, so the only way forward is upward. Arthur has to go see Akio.

 

He runs to the penthouse elevator and stares at the doors for a moment, briefly reconsidering this plan. Arthur doesn't even know if Akio is still at the office. For all he knows, the alpha might have already fled the country with the boys. 

 

Another explosion outside.

 

The boom, louder than all the others before it, shakes him from indecision. This is his only option. He's not going to just sit here and wait to die. Arthur swipes the card and the display screen flashes green, much to his great relief. Eames's security clearance is still active. The doors slide open and he steps inside. He hits the top floor button and the doors close. As he watches the floor numbers light up, he considers what this all means. If no one has revoked Eames's clearance yet, it means things at Prolcus are in turmoil. And if what's happening outside is able to affect a behemoth like Proclus Global, it has to be huge.

 

The doors open and Arthur walks through the glass hallway, but he staggers to a halt when he sees what's happening down below. Several buildings are on fire, including the one directly beside the Proclus tower. Below, burning cars pepper the main expressway, and most people have abandoned their vehicles and are running down the street. In the distance, way out on the horizon, a tank rolls into view. The military has been called in.

 

Arthur runs the rest of the way to the Proclus offices and past the empty reception desk. As he suspected, the labyrinth of hallways are empty. The rats have jumped ship. He reaches Akio's office and throws open the door, but to his surprise the room is not vacant. Akio is seated behind the desk, an empty bottle of brandy placed in the centre of it.

 

"Where are the boys?" he asks immediately, storming over to stand beside him. 

 

Akio is visibly drunk, swaying a bit before he looks up at him. "Arthur?" he murmurs, confused, as though believing he's dreaming. 

 

"Where are my sons?!" Arthur shouts, gripping him by the shoulders and shaking him.

 

That snaps Akio out of his daze. He shoves Arthur's hands off him and staggers to his feet. " _Your_ sons?" he growls, every bit the dangerous alpha of his previous self, even if he's currently shit-faced. Arthur takes a step back. "They're my boys too, Arthur. And they're safe."

 

Well, that's one small comfort, anyway. The bond between them might be shattered, but Arthur knows Akio loves the boys, and would protect them with his life. 

 

He takes a deep breath: "And Eames?"

 

Akio smirks. "Ahhh..so that's why you're worked into a tizzy."

 

The cruel expression on the alpha's face makes him feel ill. "Is he dead?" Arthur whispers.

 

Akio reclines against the desk's edge, and picks up the empty bottle to examine it as though it might have magically produced more alcohol. "You think I have time to hide a body right now?" he grumbles, practically rolling his eyes when he looks up to see Arthur staring earnestly at him. "He's a bit bruised, but he'll live."

 

Arthur exhales quietly. Two small comforts. Eames is alive and the boys are safe. "You hired that chef to spy on us," he says, not really needing to ask at this point.

 

"See? I knew you're a smart lad," Akio sneers. 

 

Arthurs cheeks burn. For some reason, even after all they've been through, he's embarrassed that Akio knows the truth. "I was never disloyal to you until you took another mate."

 

"It's my right!" Akio bellows, and frightens Arthur enough that he takes another step backward. The alpha has never struck him, but that was when they were happy, and Akio wasn't raging drunk. "Our whole marriage, all you did was sulk and pout. This isn't about your selfish needs, Arthur. I have a duty. Do you understand? A _duty_. That's bigger than what you or I want."

 

"I know that," he replies quietly. Despite what Akio thinks of him, he understands the concepts of duty and obligation. "You need to provide heirs. I understand that. But I was in love with you, and you broke my heart."

 

The confession seems to take some of the wind from Akio's sails. He slumps at the shoulders and exhales loudly. "I know, but you have to understand that I took no pleasure in hurting you. Do you believe me?" 

 

The business and turmoil have aged Akio dramatically. He looks like an old man these days, eyes lined with bags and wrinkles, his gaze robbed of its former luster. There is still a small part of him that wants to go to the alpha and stroke his hair to comfort him.

 

"I do," he answers quietly. 

 

Akio gazes at him sadly. "We were so young when we met," he says, smirking a bit. "The Arthur I met would have never stormed in here yelling and making demands."

 

A faint smile curls his lips. "I've changed. You have too."

 

The alpha nods and sets aside the bottle. He's quiet for a few moments, and even though they're in an office with six-inch thick windows on the hundredth floor, Arthur can hear the steady, regular booms outside. The tank has opened fire. 

 

"This is the end," Akio says suddenly.

 

The words make Arthur feel sick, even though they're only confirming what he already knows in his heart. Tokyo is his home now, and Arthur doesn't want to believe the city where he raised his children and met his former and current mate is lost. "The army will restore order," Arthur says, but the words sound empty even to him. When has the presence of an army ever meant anything but more chaos and death?

 

Akio smirks, as if Arthur is being terribly naive. "I've no more allies. Understand? All the money in the world doesn't mean anything when the people turn against you. They want me out of Japan, Arthur." 

 

"So you're leaving?" he asks, throat tightening as he imagines what Akio might say next — that he's taking the boys far away, somewhere he'll never be able to see them again.

 

"No," Akio sighs. "No matter where I go, they'll find me. The government already says I'm a criminal and need to stand trial." He adds, smirking: "All those politicians I bought off have forgotten they're my friends. No country in the world will offer me amnesty."

 

Arthur feels sick at the implication. He doesn't know how trials work in Japan, but he's seen the desperation of the mob. If they get their hands on Akio…

 

"What are we going to do?" he asks meekly.

 

Akio smiles faintly. "You, my love, will leave," he says, reaching into an inside pocket of his jacket and withdrawing a stack of plane tickets. "These will get you, Haru, and Takeshi to France. I've been assured you will be able to secure political refugee status, but you'll need to say I was a terror who abused you." Arthur slowly approaches the desk and takes the tickets from him. They're each a one-way guarantee to Paris. "And there will be no money, Arthur. The state is going to freeze all my assets."

 

The numb feeling returns. Arthur shakes his head. "But you—"

 

"Mr. Cobb will meet you at the penthouse and help you with logistics. He's an American, so he has a better chance of not being arrested."

 

"And Eames?" Arthur asks.

 

The flash of anger is brief, but Arthur sees it cast across Akio's face like a shadow before he erases any trace with a smirk. "I'm not arranging the escape of your lover, Arthur."

 

"He's not my lover. He's my mate—"

 

Akio hurls the empty bottle across the room and it shatters against a wall. Arthur cries out, but remains paralyzed in fear. 

 

"I'm your mate!" the alpha roars. "Even at the end, you're an insolent brat."

 

They stare at each other for a long, silent moment. Arthur slowly pockets the tickets inside his jacket and approaches the desk. Akio watches him the whole time, his tense shoulders relaxing gradually as he gazes at Arthur's face. "But you still love me," he declares softly, pausing directly before him, his hands carefully cradling Akio's worn face.

 

The alpha's eyes slip shut. "I'll always love you," he murmurs wearily. 

 

"I love you too," Arthur whispers, leaning forward to kiss his burning brow. It's not a lie or calculation. He'll always have affection for Akio as his first mate and the father of their children, even if they no longer share an unbreakable bond. "Don't you want me to be happy?"

 

"More than anything," Akio says as he pulls away, as though emerging from hypnosis. "But that doesn't change my decision. I may be beaten, but I'm not a fool. You, Haru, and Takeshi. No one else," he says. He grips Arthur's hand and presses one final kiss to his knuckles. "Be safe, my love."

 

***

 

Outside, things are worse when Arthur walks through the glass corridor on his way back to the penthouse. The tank is no where to be seen, but there are uniformed soldiers running down the street, aiming their weapons at terrified civilians, who throw their hands up and flap their mouths in silent screams. There are armed rebels too — individuals of all sizes and shapes shooting all kinds of weaponry. Some brandish handguns, others appear to be firing rifles. Arthur can't be sure, but he thinks one man has a RPG slung over his shoulder. 

 

The only noise Arthur hears is the occasional explosion, most likely the tank firing at enemy combatants.

 

He's prepared for the penthouse to be overrun, but when the doors open, their home looks exactly the same. The guards must still be maintaining the perimeter. 

 

The only anomaly is Dominic Cobb, who is standing in the living room.

 

There are no niceties exchanged between them. Arthur emerges and Dom is practically mid-sentence: "The children are in a safe location. Akio informs me you have the tickets. There's a car downstairs. We're meeting everyone at the airport. We have to leave now." Arthur stares blankly at the man before casting a helpless look around the penthouse that has been his home for just over six years. "There's no time to pack. I'm sorry."

 

He's never seen Dom this frantic before. Yes, the man is frequently awkward, but never breathless and dishevelled as he is right now. A fine sheen of sweat gleams on his brow as if he sprinted the entire way to the penthouse. 

 

"Eames?" he asks hoarsely.

 

Dom sighs and shakes his head. "He's being held in a room without windows, and there's a guard at the door at all times. There was no way I could get to him, Arthur."

 

That's it, then. There's nothing more to be done. Arthur nods slowly, processing the information. If it was just him, he would find Eames and free him, but he has to think of his children. Dom is right. There isn't any more time to waste. If they don't leave now, they won't be able to escape at all. 

 

He reaches to the side and touches the top of the piano one last time.

 

"Let's go then," Arthur says before he has time to really think about what's happening and do something silly like cry.

 

***

 

It takes them hours to reach the airport, and for a majority of the trip Arthur believes there's no way they're actually going to make it. Most of the roads are obstructed with rubble, or sealed off with checkpoints. Their driver does his best to avoid the checkpoints, but it's impossible to find roads that aren't at least partially blocked by abandoned vehicles or flaming wreckage. Arthur is silent during the trip, staring in horror out the tinted window of the car. He remembers his first impression of Tokyo, back when he was no more than a child, chauffeured through a magical city of steel and concrete. It seems impossible that this is the same place.

 

By some miracle, they make it to the airport, which is virtually deserted save for a handful of confused tourists and wealthy business leaders who were able to buy their way out of the country. Arthur and Dom run the whole way to the gate where Mrs. Narita, Ariadne, and Mrs. Cobb are standing with the Cobb's children and Haru and Takeshi. 

 

"Daddy!" Haru cries upon seeing him.

 

A pained, wild noise tears from Arthur's throat when he sees the boys, and he collapses to his knees, pulling them into fierce hugs. "Ow," Takeshi whines in objection, but his little arms are tight around Arthur's neck as he hugs him.

 

"You're okay? Let me see you," Arthur rambles, touching the boy's faces as if they're apparitions that could vanish at any second.

 

"We're okay," Haru answers. "Where's Eames?"

 

Arthur doesn't know how to answer that, so instead he reaches into his pocket. "Hey, look what I have," he says, revealing the toy train car.

 

Haru's face lights up and he grabs the toy, and it's a nice moment in the midst of all the other turmoil. He's glad he can give his son this one small gift — a time machine back to his childhood, when he was safe and happy. "Thank you, thank you," the boy says, clinging to Arthur's neck.

 

There isn't any time for further chitchat. Ariadne greets Dom with a rundown of what's transpired since he left. "Omega Secundus and Kayo have already left, bound for Spain." 

 

Dom bends down to pick up James and nods. "Good. We'll be boarding soon."

 

"How are you, dear?" Mrs. Narita asks, stooped over her cane slightly. Arthur can't believe she's actually here — that she's survived all of this madness. But then again, she might be the toughest person he knows.

 

"I'm fine," Arthur lies, feeling he has to because the children are watching him and the poor boys have been through enough. "A little…overwhelmed," he confesses.

 

She smirks. "Tell me about it. I did warn Akio, you know. I told him greed destroys the greatest kings."

 

"That's enough," Ariadne says sharply, walking over to grip Arthur supportively by the arm. "I'll help you get settled in Paris. Don't worry. You won't be alone."

 

Haru warily eyes Mrs. Narita and pokes Arthur's side. "That lady is mean, daddy," he whispers, apparently not discreetly enough because the old woman glares at him.

 

"I've raised generations of Saitos, my boy. You're not too old for me to box your ears."

 

Arthur casts a grave look his way. "She'll do it. Better listen to her."

 

Haru zips it after that. A flight attendant comes to fetch them, and then they walk down a long boarding ramp, Arthur holding the boys' hands the whole time. He never wants to let go of them again. He sits between the boys on the private plane, and a tense period follows where the captain is obviously trying to get permission from the tower to take off. Arthur wonders if the rebels have taken control of the airport yet — if they'll be dragged off the plane and executed on the tarmac. 

 

He casts a reassuring smile at the boys. "Paris is beautiful," he says. "You are going to love it."

 

Neither boy looks very convinced.

 

Finally, the plane starts to move, and when Arthur glances across the aisle, Dom shoots him a relieved look. This might actually work.

 

The wheels lift off the runway and Arthur takes his first real, full breath. They did it. The boys are safe. They're together.

 

Haru looks out the window the whole time, and it occurs to Arthur that this is the first time the boy has seen Japan from the air. "Isn't it pretty?" he whispers, leaning close to him. From twenty thousand feet in the air, all the chaos and violence in Tokyo is reduced to a black smudge. The rest of Japan is green and fertile, framed by the blue enormity of the sea. Takeshi climbs out of his aisle seat and walks over to the window so he can see too. He knows the boys must be sad to say goodbye to their home, so he rubs Takeshi's back gently, hoping to comfort him in some small way.

 

"Is daddy still there?" Takeshi asks quietly.

 

Arthur swallows the knot in his throat. "Yeah. He had to stay so we could leave," he says. Bitterness and hurt feelings aside, he does't want want the boys to resent their father, which is why he adds: "Daddy saved us."

 

***

 

The boys sleep for the majority of the flight, but fear provides an endless supply of adrenaline to Arthur, who can't shut his eyes for even a moment. He can't help but imagine every terrible scenario facing Eames right now. He wonders if Akio had him beaten — if he's too badly wounded to escape. Viewed at any angle, Eames faces insurmountable obstacles. If the rebels find him, they'll kill him for betraying them. Should Akio's people need to move locations, they surely won't bother to bring Eames as well, and they'll probably execute him just to save the time and trouble. And if the state finds Eames, he's a traitor either way. 

 

Tears trail down his face as he thinks about it, but Arthur keeps his sobs silent, refusing to allow his own weakness to wake the boys. The truth is that Eames saved them too, but he can never tell the boys that. They need to believe the alpha is alive and well.

 

Someone must have leaked the news that Saito's family has fled the country to seek political asylum because when they land there's a swarm of media waiting for them at the gate. Arthur speaks to the boys in Japanese, telling them to only smile and wave at the cameras, but not to say anything to the press. The media's involvement is a mixed blessing. Following a twelve hour flight, it's not a pleasant experience to be blinded by a wall of flashes, but Arthur is also convinced it's the press's presence that leads to customs official hurrying them through. Though, Arthur is told agents will be in contact with him later to discuss the possibility of amnesty, and they carefully document his Parisian address.

 

Dom smiles apologetically when an unmarked van pulls up. "It's important we travel incognito," he explains, sliding open the door.

 

The children think it's cool to travel via a wildly different mode of transportation than they're accustomed, so they giggle and pile inside. The adults are considerably less enthusiastic about the arrangement. Mallorie wrinkles her nose and Mrs. Narita tisks aloud: "What has become of us?" shoving her cane into Dom's arms and grabbing Arthur's arm for purchase as she slowly climbs inside.

 

Arthur is simply relieved to be moving forward, away from the airport, and farther away from the destruction they all narrowly escaped. He's not intimately familiar with the layout of Paris, but he learned enough in his geography lessons to recognize the fourth arrondissement. "Dom…how can we afford to live here?" he asks, voice pitched low so the children, who are playing on the wide bench in the back can't hear them. "Akio said the funds are frozen."

 

The man nods. "Akio's funds are, but those aren't the only funds. The Saitos still have friends, many of whom live in Paris. They can't provide everything, but you'll have a roof over your head."

 

***

 

The apartment is beautiful, if only a fraction of the size of their previous penthouse. There's a bedroom for each boy, plus the master bedroom with doors that open to a small balcony. The space contains sparse furniture: beds (including linens), desks, and armoires for their clothing. The kids immediately race off, Haru and Takeshi claiming their respective rooms, while the rest of the team pokes around various corners and crevices. Mallorie manages to spot all the good features of the apartment, while Mrs. Narita announces all the bad ones.

 

Meanwhile, Ariadne is pleased she lives within walking distance. "This is great! We can Yank-up Paris together," she crows, smiling brightly. "I can be your own personal bodyguard." 

 

Though it's unintentional, hearing that word evokes a powerful emotional response in Arthur. Eames's face fills his vision, and his mood shift must be apparent because Dom suddenly says, "We'll let you get settled. Tell me what you need and I'll have it delivered."

 

"Dom, thank you," Arthur says, flashing a weak smile at the man. "I really appreciate it."

 

Despite the advice he gave to Arthur all those years ago, Dom has no idea how to accept thanks. Instead, he mumbles a series of fragments until Mallorie intervenes to save him. "No thanks is needed. We live to serve. Isn't that right, my sweet?"

 

Dom smiles apologetically. "Exactly."

 

"Daddy, can James and Phillipa sleep over?" Haru asks, emerging from his bedroom.

 

Arthur flashes a week smile. "Maybe another time, Lamby."

 

Right now, Arthur doesn't want to be around anyone except his boys. It's surreal enough to be in a different country, in a city where the streets are neat and peaceful. The relative silence outside sounds alien, and he half-expects it to be shattered at any moment by another massive explosion. 

 

The team leaves and Arthur opens the balcony doors to let in some fresh air. Then he lays on the master bed and gazes at the ceiling for a while. He tries to remember the last time he saw Eames, and attempts to fill in the little details like what the man was wearing, and how his hair was parted. He recalls the way the man grinned and said those last words: _be good_. Arthur should have said he loved him, but at the time the moment hadn't seemed so significant. 

 

"I love you," he whispers now, to no one, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

 

Takeshi enters silently, so Arthur doesn't notice the little boy until he's scaling onto the bed, and by then it's too late to hide the fact that he's crying. "Are you sad?" his youngest asks, curled up against his side.

 

"A little," he whispers, flashing what he hopes is a comforting smile as he wraps his arm around the boy.

 

"You miss daddy?"

 

"Yeah, baby," Arthur says as he turns a bit so he can smooth Takeshi's thick fringe off his brow.

 

The boy still has most of his baby fat, especially in his cheeks, so Arthur can't help but smile when he frowns thoughtfully, if only because he looks so cute. "I miss Eames," he announces.

 

The words knock the air from Arthur's lungs because, while he's fairly confident Akio is still alive, he doesn't hold the same optimism when it comes to the other alpha. "Me too." That's all he can manage to say, but fortunately Takeshi doesn't seem interested in further discussion. The boy curls up against him, and Arthur holds him tightly while they take an impromptu afternoon nap.

 

***

 

The boys love Paris because they have much more freedom, and can even play in the park with James and Phillipa on the weekend. It takes Arthur a while to adjust to the lack of security, but he eventually comes to understand that the children are safe in Paris. Any motive kidnappers might have had to take the boys — money, vengeance against Akio — is gone. The rebels have their victory. Proclus Global has been dissolved. The state has seized Akio's assets and will most likely liquidate and redistribute them to the families who have lost their livelihoods and had their environment poisoned by the company.

 

The first few weeks, Arthur watches the news constantly to follow Akio's fate. The rebels didn't kill him, but he has been arrested, and it's strange to see the televised trial with Akio seated at the table in a prison uniform, stripped of his designer suits. Arthur always turns off the television whenever the boys enter the room. They know their daddy is facing charges, but Arthur refuses to watch the trial when they're around.

 

Dom says Akio faces a maximum penalty of twenty years in prison. If he's lucky, he'll serve no more than a decade. He could one day see his children again.

 

These days, Arthur looks for optimism anywhere he can find it.

 

Summer in Paris is glorious. Even Mrs. Narita can't find many terrible things to say, and these days her grievances are isolated to how the "Parisians don't know how to make rice" (her words). 

 

Arthur spends a lot of time with the boys — taking them for walks, playing in the park, and exposing them to Paris's rich cultural landscape. Meanwhile, the boys still receive their lessons, though this time Dom offers general business courses, as opposed to the specifics about Proclus, and Mrs. Narita teaches them French instead of Japanese, a language they have already conquered. (Arthur once asks Mrs. Narita how many languages she speaks, and the woman casually answers: "Seven"). He sits in on these lessons as well. After all, he too needs to learn the language. 

 

Frustratingly, the boys are picking it up much faster than him, and they giggle conspiratorially whenever Arthur mispronounces a word.

 

Mallorie, who speaks fluid French (because of course she does) sympathetically pats his arm whenever the boys are being little devils. "Don't worry," she smiles. "The language is more of an attitude than anything else."

 

And though she plays innocent, Arthur has walked in on Ariadne shadowboxing with Haru, and he has a sneaking suspicion she's been secretly teaching the boys how to fight.

 

On weekends, he wakes up early and walks down to the corner bakery so he can buy a freshly baked loaf of bread and make the boys a nice breakfast. Henry, the owner of the shop, knows Arthur and greets him with a sunny smile and some rapid French. It takes Arthur a few beats to process what he's said, but he understands most of it these days, and answers in French.

 

"Bon! Bon…" Henry laughs, pleased with Arthur's accent.

 

Arthur buys a long loaf that juts out of the bag, along with a smaller bag of pastries: chocolate croissants for Takeshi, macaroons for Haru, and an eclair for himself. He tells himself they've earned the right to splurge a little.

 

He thanks Henry and walks back to the apartment, carefully juggling the bag as he ascends the old, wooden steps, and briefly struggles to jam the ancient skeleton key into the lock. But he finally gets the door open and nearly drops everything right there in the hallway when he sees Eames sitting at the kitchen table. The man is wearing what looks like borrowed clothes — the tan slacks too short on his legs, exposing the knobs of his ankles, and the shirt too baggy on his torso. His face is riddled with yellow bruises, confirming Arthur's fear that he'd been beaten by Akio's guards.

 

"You should change that lock. It's too easy to pick," Eames casually observes, and for the first time Arthur notices the half-eaten slice of toast on the plate in front of him. 

 

Eames broke in and made himself a little snack.

 

Arthur slowly steps inside, gazing cautiously around the apartment, as though expecting some kind of ambush. "Do the boys know you're here?" he asks, keeping his voice pitched low as he sets down the bag on the counter. 

 

The alpha slowly stands, clutching the chair's back for assistance, and Arthur wonders how badly he's hurt. "No," he answers simply. They stare at each other for a long moment, and it's strange because this is the very moment Arthur has been praying for, and yet he can't will his legs to move. Eames seems unnerved by the silence because he grins crookedly — an outwardly cocky expression that Arthur knows means the man feels insecure. "Sorry, took a bit longer than I expected."

 

That spurs Arthur to cross the room in three strides and throw his arms around the alpha. He can bear a lot, but not Eames apologising to him — not for protecting them. Eames has survived so much that Arthur doesn't want to contribute to that burden, but he can't help the tears that spill down his face as he weeps in relief. The alpha attempts to hug him, but visibly winces when Arthur presses against him.

 

"You're hurt," Arthur observes, sniffling pitifully.

 

"It's nothing," Eames lies, silencing any further interrogation when he leans in to kiss him.

 

He whimpers, quaking fingertips tracing the alpha's jawline, smoothing across his chest, greedily reacquainting himself with all the little details his memory couldn't quite recall. Eames touches him gently, either because he's injured, or because he fears Arthur will shake apart beneath his hands.

 

"Eames!" 

 

They separate as the boys gallop down the hallway. Strangely, neither of them seemed surprised to see their father necking with the family's former bodyguard, and he's once again reminded that even Dominic Cobb, arguably the most oblivious man on the planet, knew he and Eames were lovers. How long have the boys known? But then he remembers Haru once asked if Eames was their new father.

 

Maybe they've known the whole time.

 

Eames laughs joyously, catching a boy on each arm, and hugging them tightly. "How are you lads? Taking care of your dad?" Arthur wants to tell the boys not to be so rough, but they're so happy to see the alpha that he keeps quiet. Besides, Eames seems over the moon to see them.

 

"How're you here?" Haru asks, face glowing as he smiles. 

 

That's the question of the year, and Arthur carefully watches Eames's face as the man answers.

 

"Magic," he replies, grinning.

 

"No, really," Takeshi implores, pulling at the neck of his shirt. 

 

Eames looks offended by the accusation he might be lying. "I told you, didn't I? My best trick yet." The alpha grunts a bit as he tries to stand, and Arthur steps forward to assist him.

 

"Okay, no more questions today. Eames needs to rest."

 

***

 

Eames looks around the master bedroom that night, particularly the flimsy locks on the windows. "We'll change these too," he murmurs, more to himself than to Arthur, who watches the alpha work from the bed. 

 

"I don't want you to feel obligated—" he starts, then stops when Eames shoots him a strange look. "We've just been through a lot — you especially — and I don't want you to feel guilty, or that you have to stay with me." He's rambling, but Arthur feels he has to say the words. "I was mated to another alpha…I know they're not your boys—"

 

"You're my mate," Eames interrupts, walking to the bed and sitting beside the omega. "Those _are_ my boys."

 

Tears obstruct his gaze as he nods. It's true. Eames is as much a father to the boys as Akio is, and unlike their biological father, Eames is _here_. The alpha ends the discussion when he kisses Arthur, and he reciprocates enthusiastically. They climb under the sheets, Eames on top of him, and Arthur keeps moaning softly, writhing eagerly beneath his solid weight. But when he pulls the man's shirt over his head, Arthur reveals the deep purple and black bruises covering Eames's ribs. " _Oh_ ," Arthur gasps, staring in horror at the alpha's torso.

 

"It looks worse than it is," Eames says, trying to soothe Arthur, but it's too late.

 

He reaches over to the lamp and turns it on so he can see the full extend of the damage. "Eames, your ribs could be broken."

 

"They're not broken. Bruised. Not broken."

 

Arthur eyes his injuries as he experiences the full gamut of emotions: guilt, sadness, relief, and finally curiosity. "How did you get out of that room?" he asks softly, and before Eames can treat him like one of the boys, he adds: "Don't say magic. Dom said the room was a fortress. How did you do it?"

 

"Arthur…" Eames gazes at the windows as he struggles for the right words. "I tell the boys I did it with magic because I don't know want them to know what I'm capable of. Just like I don't want you to know."

 

He furrows his brow. "Why?"

 

"Because I don't want you to think differently, or less, of me," Eames sighs.

 

Arthur reaches for him, tenderly cupping his face. "I'll never think less of you. Tell me."

 

The alpha sighs again, leaning into Arthur's touch, and he obeys the command. Eames tells him everything, all the unglamorous, sordid details.

 

He faked a seizure to get the guard into the room, and that's when Eames attacked him. He beat the man to death with his bare hands, then stole his weapon. Armed with only a handgun, he escaped the building, and then went underground until he could find a way out of the country. Through various connections, he learned where Arthur and the boys had been taken. The rest was accomplished by stealing, bribing, forging, and gambling his way to Paris.

 

Arthur can see why he wouldn't want to tell the boys that version of the truth.

 

"You did what you had to do to survive," Arthur says after he's finished the story.

 

Eames nods slowly. "I'd do worse to be with you."

 

Leaving a trail of bloody bodies from Tokyo to Paris is Eames's version of a love letter.

 

Arthur turns off the lamp and pulls at Eames's arm until the alpha drapes atop him again. He's heavy, but the weight feels nice and secure. "I thought I lost you," Arthur whispers.

 

The whole time he had been imagining all the horrible ways Eames might have died, the alpha was thinking of ways to survive and come back to them. Because Eames considers them his real family — no asterisk included. He doubts many other alphas would be willing to adopt children, or a previously married mate, in such a willing fashion. Eames never looks at him as others sometimes do, with something like pity in their gazes. 

 

Pride and love shine in the alpha's eyes when he looks at Arthur.

 

"It'll take more than that to keep me from you," he says, pressing a kiss to his brow.

 

Arthur doesn't know what more the universe could possibly throw at them. They survived the wrath of a jealous tycoon and a civil war. He likes to think, if they can endure that, they can face anything together.

 

"I love you," Arthur whispers, because through everything they've survived, that truth has been his constant.

 

Eames kisses him, the embrace tender and full of promise. 

 

"I love you, darling."

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr: http://theaoidos.tumblr.com/


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